THE ROMANCE 

OF 

BIRD LIFE 



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THE ROMANCE OF 
BIRD LIFE 




White Stork and his Playmates 

The Stork's favourite amusement was to join with children in a game of catch, 
running after them in the street and seizing iheir jackets with its bill, and allowing 
itself in turn to be caught by the wing {page 120). 

White Storks are great favourites in Holland and Germany, where they often 
nest on roofs and chimneys. 



THE ROMANCE OF 
BIRD LIFE 

BEING AN ACCOUNT OF THE EDUCATION, 
COURTSHIP, SPORT AND PLAY, JOURNEYS, 
FISHING, FIGHTING, PIRACY, DOMESTIC 
AND SOCIAL HABITS, INSTINCT, STRANGE 
FRIENDSHIPS AND OTHER INTERESTING 
ASPECTS OF THE LIFE OF BIRDS 



BY 



JOHN LEA, M.A. 

joint author of 
•'the komance of animal arts and crafts," &^C. &^C, 



WITH TWENTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS 



PHILADELPHIA 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

LONDON: SEELEY & CO. Limited 
1909 



Q~^' 



i< 



Printed in Great Britain 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 

NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

PAGE 

The hatching of a chick — How the egg-shell is cracked — The * egg- 
tooth ' and its uses — Different ways of escape from the shell — 
Helplessness and precocity : Parrot and Partridge — Instinct — How 
to distinguish instinctive actions — Life within the egg — Obedience 
of the unborn chick — Chicken language — Fearlessness of 5^oung 
birds — Playing 'possum — Protective colouration — Early feats of 
skill — Learning to peck — Food and experience — Learning to drink 
— The flight instinct — Parental discipline — Swimming and diving — 
Young water-birds which are launched by their parents — Pro- 
tection of nestlings — Learning to sing — Nest-building — Nests and 
eggs — Early misdeeds : Cuckoos and their victims — Instinct and 
education . . ■, . ... 17 

CHAPTER II 

SITTING 

Incubation period — Division of labour — Domesticated husbands — 
Swifts — A rebellious hen — The cloistered Hornbill — Manner of 
leaving and returning to the nest — Protective colouration — Scene 
ki a heronry — Pelican Island — Incubation under difficulties — Cold 
and heat . , . . • • • 35 

CHAPTER III 

birds' INCUBATORS 

Extremes of the brooding instinct — Aids to incubation — Sun-warmth : 
its advantages and dangers — Ostrich, Sand-Grouse, and Black- 
backed Courser — The Mound-Builders and their incubators — Maleos 
— Choice of ground — Hot springs — The buried chick — Brush-Turkey 
— Heat from fermenting vegetable matter — Attending to the incu- 
bator — Large feet of Mound-birds — Megapodes — Immense size of 
mounds — Ocellated Megapode — Precocity of Mound-bird chicks — 
Volcanic heat . , , . ... 49 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER IV 

FEEDING THE CHICKS 

PAGE 

Infant-food and why it is necessary — Finches — Change of diet and 
special preparation of food — 'Pigeon's milk' — Insect-eaters — 
Swallows and Swifts — A ball of flies — Reed- Warblers — Industry of 
parents — A working day of sixteen hours — Feeding the young in 
mid-air — Methods of giving food — An interesting experiment — 
Birds-of-Prey — Larders — Fish-eaters — Fish soup — Perverted instinct 
of domesticated birds . . . ... 67 



CHAPTER V 

DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

Change of character in breeding season — Courage and endurance — 
Braving cold, water, fire, famine, etc. — Intimidation — Strategy: 
the wiles of a Woodchuck — Attitude of an angry bird — Animals at- 
tacked by nesting birds : cats, dogs, pigs — Birds-of-Prey — Courage 
of Owls — The redoubtable King-bird — ' Bonxies ' and bonneting 
— An unpleasant habit — One of nature's comedians . . .80 

CHAPTER VI 

MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

Deceptive behaviour — The 'little brown bird' — Death-feigning — 
Lapwings and egg-gatherers — Wiles of the male bird and protec- 
tive colouration of the eggs — Avosets and Stilts — Ducks and Drakes 
— Ostrich — Unkingly conduct of a King Vulture — Some artful 
dodgers — A cat's hunting — The paralysing effect of fear, and the 
advantage which hunters take of it — Difference between death- 
feigning and the immobility of protectively coloured birds — The 
real 'possum — The popular idea of a 'shamming' bird — A true fairy- 
tale — Natural selection . . . ... 94 

CHAPTER VII 

I 

SPORT AND PLAY 

The meaning and importance of play — Fighting games — Playful peck- 
ing of tame birds — Nursing and nest-building play — Flying games 
— Swimming games — ' Follow-my- leader ' — Hide-and-seek of 
climbing birds — Swinging — Birds and children — Toys and play- 
things — ]\Iischief and destructiveness — Practical jokes . . iii 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER VIII 

PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS page 

The Paradise-bird's playing-tree — Beauty on a pedestal — The Argus 
Pheasant's drawing-room — A wonderful courtship display — Sexual 
selection — The Polyplectron's playground and courtship — The club- 
grounds of Game-birds — Bower-birds and their pleasure-houses — 
Satin Bower-birds at the 'Zoo' — Decorating the bower — A depot for 
lost property — Courtship-play — The Spotted Bower-bird's avenue 
and playthings — The Regent Bower-bird's love of colour—Carpeted 
playgrounds — The Gardenei'-birds and their beautiful pleasure- 
grounds — The Golden Bower-bird's toy village and triumphal arch 124 

CHAPTER IX 

COURTSHIP 

Excess of bachelors amongst birds, and its results — Arts of peace — 'K 
Singing for a mate — The meaning of song — Song and dance — 
Instrumental music — The drumming of Snipes — Courtship flights 
— The dalliance of Eagles — Antics of Game-birds — The indifference 
of hens — Bustards in Spain — Coyness and provocation — Feminine 
boldness : the Northern Phalarope — Good-humoured rivalry : the 
Flickers . . . . ... 143 

CHAPTER X 

FIGHTING 
Weapons : beaks, claws, spurs, ' knobs,' wings, and wing-spurs — \ 
Pugnacity of Game-birds — Protective colouration : a digression — 
Tournaments — Fighting-cocks — A race of Amazons : the Bustard- 
Quails — Moral effect of victory — Kickers — The ' Fighting Ruffs * 
— Wing-spurs as weapons — " The faithful Jacana " — Some familiar 
examples — Dabchick versus Swan — Family feuds of Moorhens — 
Battles in the air — Peacemakers . . ... 160 



CHAPTER XI 

BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

Importance of the toilet — Perils of neglect — Dry-cleaning — ^^The city 
Sparrow — Choice of a toilet-powder — The tepid sand-bath — Pre- 
paring the bath — Hens and Partridges — Wood ashes — The enter- 
prising Sparrow again — A bath-tub for city birds — Health and 
cleanliness — A shy bather — Drying — Bath-time— "Owls — A cold tub 
— Preening — Masculine vanity, and feminine — The Six-plumed 
Paradise-bird — How the Motmot shapes its tail — Humming-birds — 
II 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Swallows — Plunge-baths — Bathing in dew — Shower-baths — Parrots 
and their bathing parties — Water-birds— Salt water v. fresh — 
' Brilliantine ' — ^The uses of oil — The importance of neatness — 
Oiling the feathers — Brush and comb — Powder-downs — Humble 
servitors . . . . ... 178 

CHAPTER Xn 

SWIMMING AND DIVING 

How water-birds are kept warm and dry — The double garment of 
feathers — An air-cushion — The shape of diving and swimming birds 
— Methods of propulsion — Feet and wings — Penguins, Darters, and 
Cormorants — Diving as a means of escape — How do birds remain 
submerged ? — Pursuit of the Great Northern Diver — Advantage of 
swimming under water — High diving of Gannets — The instinct of 
escape — The versatile Dipper . . ... 198 

CHAPTER XHI 

PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

The Bald Eagle and the Osprey — An unequal contest — Pirate bands 
of Fish-Crowds — Skuas and their victims — Disgorging the booty — 
Robbing the sportsman — Molly-mawks — Frigate-birds and Boobies 
— Methods of compulsion — Pelicans robbed by Gulls — The Wood- 
pecker and the squirrel's storehouse — Appropriating nests and 
building material — Egg-thieves — How the eggs are carried — 
Stealing eggs from a sitting hen . . ... 214 

CHAPTER XIV 

FLIGHT 

The machinery of flight — The light construction of a bird — The lightest 
bird many times heavier than air — Power of flight dependent on 
rapidity of wing-movement — Style of flight dependent on shape 
of wing — Steering — Formation and order of flocks — Closing up 
the ranks — Speed of birds in full flight — Gliding, soaring, and 
hovering — The problem of the soaring bird — The height to which 
birds soar — Birds and ships in mid-ocean . . . . 232 

CHAPTER XV 

MIGRATION 
The old hibernation myth : its absurdities and possible foundation in 
fact — The gathering of the flocks — Immensity of numbers — Perils 
of the journey — Extent of the breeding-ground — The Tundra, a 
12 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

birds' paradise — A banquet of crystallised fruit and mosquitoes — 
Possible origfin of the migratory instinct — Punctuality of migrants : 
"Time gone by, birds gone by'^ — Height at which migrants fly — 
The beginning and end of the journey — Speed of migrating flocks 
— Importance of speed — East and west migration — Finding the way 
— Partial migrants . . . ... 245 

CHAPTER XVI 

BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

The social instinct — "Birds of a feather" — True societies and un- 
sociable flocks — Why large Birds-of-Prey are unsociable — Rooks at 
work and play — Sentinels — Why Rooks form rookeries — Rookeries 
and penguineries — Rook pioneers — Altruism among birds — Rescue 
parties— Birds-of-Prey mobbed by small birds — An Owl as a decoy 
— A bird philanthropist — Winter flocks — Nesting colonies of 
Weaver-birds— The Sociable Grosbeak — Hundreds of nests under 
a single roof— Nests which are shared by several pairs of birds . 265 

CHAPTER XVH 

STRANGE COMPANIONS 

Friendly relations between animals of diff'erent species — Probable ad- 
vantages — Rhinoceros and Rhinoceros-bird — Ox-peckers, Cattle- 
Herons, and their English representatives — The Kea Parrot : a di- 
gression — Crocodile and Crocodile-bird — Burrowing Owls and their 
associates — A ' happy family ? ' — Fox and Duck : a doubtful case 
— Eagles and Sparrows — Legionary guards of ants and wasps — 
Honey-guides and their accomplices . ... 285 

CHAPTER XVni 

BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

Advantages of town life — Kites in Old London — Scavenger birds at 
work — The last of the London Ravens — Citizens of the Crow family 
— Adaptability of the Wood-Pigeon — Moorhens and Dabchicks — 
The ways of the half-tame Wild Duck — Small birds — Occasional 
visitors — The Woodpecker : a case of circumstantial evidence — 
Perils of town life — Bird-watching in town — A walk across 
Kensington Gardens . . . ... 304 

CHAPTER XIX 

FISHING 

Fishing from a stand — Kingfisher and Heron — How the fish are 
swallowed — Fishing Crows — A boisterous fishing - party : the 

13 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

American Wood-Ibis — Bills and claws of fishing birds — Birds-of- 
Prey as fishers — A romantic family history — Fishing in mid-air — 
The diving birds as fishers — The Darter's spring-harpoon—' Master 
of the Royal Cormorants' — Fishing with Cormorants — A fishing- 
fleet of Pelicans — The capacity of a Pelican's pouch — The Skimmer : 
ploughing the waves — Opening shell-fish — The foUow-my-leader 
fiishing of Gannets . . . . . . 318 

CHAPTER XX 

BIRDS OF THE PAST AND VANISHING SPECIES 

Persecuted birds — ' Plume-hunters ' — Early voyagers and the Great 
Auk — The fate of flightless birds — How the Dodo got to Mauritius 
— The trustfulness of island birds : ' Simpletons ' and ' Boobies ' — 
A Dodo in London — The doom of the Kiwi — The Roc in legend 
and fact — Giant birds — A family vault — Archseopteryx, the lizard- 
tailed, toothed fossil-bird— Didunculus, the toothed bird of modern 
times — A happy survival — A stupendous massacre : the story of the 
Passenger-Pigeons . . . ... 337 

CHAPTER XXI 

WISDOM AND FOLLY 

Imagination, memory, and intelligence in birds — Mischievousness and 
practical joking — A Raven's strategy — Comparative intelligence of 
Crows and Rooks : the plumage test — Dog versus Magpies — Bird- 
burial — Parrots and Monkeys compared — A Parrot biography — A 
case of insanity — Longevity of Parrots and Ravens . . . 354 



367 



14 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



A White Stork and his Playmates 

Ostrich Chick Leaving the Egg . 

Brown Pelicans on Pelican Island 

Devoted Parents: Reed-Warblers and Nest 

The Butcher-Bird's 'Larder' 

Defending the Nest : Gander attacking a Sow 

Lapwing leaving its Nest 

Playhouse of a Gardener Bower-Bird 

Peafowls . , . , . 

Ptarmigan: a Study in Costume . 

Robbing an Ostrich of its Feathers 

Rival 'Tomfools' and Ruffs fighting 

A Group of Cape Penguins 

A Famous Buccaneer . . 

Black-headed Gulls robbing a Brown Pelican 

Homing Pigeons used by Soldiers . 

Flight of Wild Duck on a Moonlight Night 

15 



PAGE 

Frontispiece 
24 

44 
72 
76 



140 

152 
162 
168 
169 
200 
216 
226 
238 
258 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Dwellings of the Sociable Grosbeak 

Crocodiles and Crocodile-birds 

Kites in Old London 

The Osprey's Eyrie on Loch-an-Eilan 

Fishing with Cormorants . 

Birds in Mauritius Three Hundred Years ago 

Magpie Strategy .... 



PAGE 

282 



292 
306 
326 
330 

344 
360 



•'But it's fine to live and die like a Great Black Crow" Tailpiece 



16 



THE EOMANCE OF 
BIED LIFE 

CHAPTER I 
NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

The hatching of a chick — How the egg-shell is cracked — The ' egg-tooth ' 
and its uses — Different ways of escape from the shell — Helplessness and 
precocity : Parrot and Partridge— Instinct — How to distinguish instinc- 
tive actions— Life within the egg— Obedience of the unborn chick — 
Chicken language — Fearlessness of young birds — Playing 'possum — 
Protective colouration — Early feats of skill — Learning to peck — Food 
and experience — Learning to drink — The flight instinct — Parental disci- 
pline — Swimming and diving — Young water-birds which are launched by 
their parents — Protection of nestlings — Learning to sing— Nest-building 
— Nests and eggs — Early misdeeds : Cuckoos and their victims— Instinct 
and education. 

NOWHERE in the wild range of animal life is there a 
greater wealth and variety of romance than amongst 
birds. In their loves, their battles, their adventures, in 
all their varied activities and social habits, there is present that 
curiously pervading charm which constitutes, for those who 
have not had the misfortune to become deaf to its appeal, the 
very true spirit of romance. Nor is the element of mystery, 
which is so often bound up with romance, wholly wanting, 
for there is still much in the life of a bird that we can- 
not explain or understand, in spite of the great progress 
which science has made towards the far-off goal of complete 
knowledge. 

" B 17 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

Before we reach the end of our story we shall have occasion 
to make the acquaintance of birds of many kinds, some of 
them, it may be, but little known even to naturalists ; but we 
will bear in mind that interesting birds are not necessarily 
rare, and that there is abundance of romance in the life of 
species with which we are all quite familiar — so familiar, per- 
haps, that many people never take the trouble really to 
observe them at all. For the moment we need not go far 
afield — no further than to the fowl-pen. 

The interest of a bird's life story begins with the very 
earliest days while the chick is still in the egg, unborn, and 
there is no reason why we should not take that as our starting- 
point ; indeed, if we do so, we shall meet at once with some of 
the most remarkable and beautiful instances of the way in 
which Nature has made provision for carrying on her work of 
aiding and safeguarding the appearance on the earth of a new 
living creature. 

What could be more commonplace than the hatching of an 
ordinary domestic chick ? For three weeks or so the Hen 
broods over her eggs, and then one day she appears with a 
family of fluffy, cheeping youngsters about her, over which she 
fusses inordinately until they are able to look after themselves. 
If all goes well, they are, in due course, ready for the table, or 
to have nests of their own ; and there very often the interest of 
their owner ends. Let us, however, watch the hatching of a 
chick and see if we cannot find out about it something more 
that is worth knowing. It is not possible, of course, to do 
this in ordinary circumstances, that is to say, while the egg is 
covered by a sitting Hen ; we must either wait until several of 
the brood have escaped from the shell, when it is likely that 
the others are on the point of emerging, and remove one of the 
unhatched eggs to a warm place, such as a basket in front of 
the fire, where we can observe it conveniently ; or, what is far 
better, watch eggs which are being hatched in an artificial 
glass-covered incubator. In either case a great deal of patience 

i8 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

may be called for, but we are not likely ever to learn very much 
about the wavs of birds without that. 

I^t us suppose, then, that the eggs are hatching, and that 
we fix our attention on one which has still an unbroken shell. 
If we have been fortunate in our choice we shall probably see 
the egg moving a little from time to time, and if we listen 
intently we may hear a feeble tapping, caused by the chick 
hammering upon its prison walls in its efforts to escape. The 
sounds are not continuous ; there are frequent pauses, some of 
them quite long, so we may suppose that the little prisoner 
finds its task a tiring one, and is obliged to rest from time to 
time. After a while, however, there appears in the shell a 
crack which grows gradually larger, until at length a piece is 
pushed right out, or the shell is broken quite in halves, and the 
chick is visible. It presents a rather pathetic, woebegone ap- 
pearance, for its downy covering is bedraggled with moisture. 
Now and then it moves in a jerky way, opens its eyes, and 
makes heroic efforts to hold up its head, but it is not very 
successful in its attempts, for the eyes keep closing again, 
while the head slowly sinks to the floor. The little bird, 
indeed, seems to be in the last stage of exhaustion. 

Gradually, however, the chick gathers strength, its down- 
feathers become dry, it practises raising itself on its feet, and 
it is not veiy long before it has learnt to stand up. Looking 
at it now, it appears much larger than it did just at first, 
and one is disposed to marvel that it could so recently have 
been shut up in such a narrow space. Certainly it had not very 
much room in which to move about, and its hammering on the 
hard shell must have been performed at a considerable dis- 
advantage. It seems rather wonderful that it should have 
managed to escape at all : but perhaps the little beak is very 
hard and sharp ? No, it is still quite soft; but if you look at it 
closely you will see at the very tip of the upper half of the 
bill a pale spot, and there is the instrument which Nature has 
provided to enable the chick to gain its freedom. It is a tiny 

19 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

conical nodule of chalky substance, which is formed as the time 
for hatching approaches, and is known as the ' bill-scale "* or 
'egg-tooth.' As the chick moves its head about this instru- 
ment acts as a file, and gradually scrapes and weakens the 
shell where it rubs against it ; then, when the time for more 
active measures arrives, it makes the feeble blows which the little 
bird delivers on the wall of its narrow prison far more effective 
than they would be if struck by a soft bill without any such 
armature. The ' egg-tooth ' has no other use : when once 
the chick has emerged its work is done, and it soon dis- 
appears. 

We ought, perhaps, to mention that the shell is not broken 
open in just the same way by all the different kinds of birds, 
for while many, like the domestic chick, gather sufficient 
strength after chipping a hole and breathing the air for a little 
w^hile to burst open their prison walls, others, such as Ducks, 
chip the shell in a circle near the broad end, or, like the 
Humming-birds, make a clean, smooth cut round four-fifths of 
the equator before hooking their claws over the edge and 
pushing the two halves apart. 

The domestic chick, then, is clothed when born in a coat of 
down ; its eyes are open, and it is very soon able to stand on 
its feet: what else it can do we shall learn presently. The 
young of many birds, such as those of Gulls, Ducks, Plovers, 
Cranes, Ostriches, and so on, are equally advanced, and some 
of them are even more precocious. 

But the young of another great group of birds, among which 
are Parrots, Hawks, Herons, Doves, Gannets, Crows, and all our 
song-birds, are more or less helpless when hatched, and many 
(though not all) of them are blind and naked. Being unable 
to leave the nest or to look after themselves in any way, they 
are entirely dependent on their parents for food and even, in 
the,early days, for warmth. 

(when we come to inquire into the matter more closely, we 
find that the most highly developed and intelligent birds are 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

the most helpless at birth. A baby Parrot, for example, is 
unable to open its eyes for a week or more after escaping from 
the egg, and cannot leave the nest for at least thirty days — in 
the case of some of the larger Parrots it may be seven weeks. 
Even when it has learnt to fly it is still lovingly tended by 
its parents, and for some time longer is fed only on seeds which 
they have softened for it in their crops. What a contrast 
is this to the precocity of a young Sandpiper, which is able 
to run about almost as soon as it is born, and after an hour or 
two can cover the ground at an astonishing pace ; or of a Part- 
ridge chick, which can jump over an obstacle four times its own 
height when only two or three days old ! 

The first thing which chicks endeavour to do is to discover a 
snug place where they can nestle close for warmth. In nature 
the little birds find this under their mother''s wing, and in 
the incubator they huddle together; but in all circumstances 
they instinctively seek warmth, and they soon learn by experi- 
ence where it is to be found, for hand-reared chickens will run 
to the hand of the person who tends them, and cosily ensconce 
themselves there, settling down in contentment and poking out 
their little heads between the fingers. 

This brings us to one of the most interesting questions in 
bird-life : How far is a young bird guided by instinct, and to 
what extent are its actions due to experience and education ? 
We cannot discuss it very fully here, for it is a difficult and 
complicated question, and one concerning which we have still 
a great deal to learn, although whole volumes have been written 
about it. I hope that some day you will read some of these 
books, especially those about Animal Behaviour and Habit and 
Instinct, by Professor Lloyd Morgan, which are more fascinating 
than any story-book. For the present we must be content with 
quite a short account of the matter. 

We may say at once that birds are guided in their actions by 
both instinct and intelligence, but that with them instinct is 
the more highly developed of the two, while in man the exact 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

opposite is the case. A simple and fairly safe way of deciding 
whether what an animal does is the result of instinct or of 
intelligence is to inquire whether, in the same circumstances, it 
is done in the same or nearly the same way by all the indi- 
viduals of the same species, age, and sex, without any previous 
experience to guide them. If so, the action is almost cer- 
tainly the result of instinct, because there is a want of variety 
about actions which are truly instinctive which is very different 
from what we find in the case of rational actions. If you have 
ever kept silkworms you know that when the caterpillar has 
eaten a certain quantity of lettuce or mulberry leaves, it crawls 
into a corner and begins to spin a cocoon. There seems to be 
no particular reason why it should want to do anything of the 
kind ; its surroundings are just the same as ever ; it has the 
run of the same cardboard box, in the same exhilarating air 
of a school locker, with the same liberal supply of rather limp 
lettuce leaves ; yet it appears suddenly to have tired of its 
sybaritic existence, and to be moved by some impulse from 
within to start spinning. That act is truly instinctive. There 
are other instinctive acts, however, which are not performed 
until some change takes place in the conditions to which the 
animal is exposed. Let us this time take the case of a bird by 
way of example. If you place a young Duckling, not very long 
out of the shell, in a pan of water, you can see it begin to 
paddle with its little legs and swim about on the top : that is 
an instinctive act brought about by exposing the bird to new 
conditions, or following, as we say, an external stimulus. 

Most instinctive acts are either vitally important for the 
welfare of the race, like the silkworm's cocoon-spinning, which 
provides it with a cosy garment to protect it while it is in the 
helpless chrysalis condition ; or, like the Duckling's swimming, 
they follow some external stimulus of frequent occurrence. 

Chickens may often be heard cheeping while they are still 
in the shell, in some cases quite a long while before hatching. 
Ducklings begin their musical career about a day before they 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

make their appearance in the world, and young Moorhens as 
much as two days. The sound is sometimes quite spontaneous, 
but a silent eggling can often be induced to chirp in answer to 
a whistle. Now it has been noticed in more than one instance 
that if the mother utters a note of warning while the little 
prisoner is hammering away at the shell and singing (or is it 
complaining ?) over its work, the sounds stop instantly, and the 
chick keeps quite still for a long time unless the old bird utters 
a different call which evidently means that the danger is past. 
That teaches us that the simple language of call-notes is cer- 
tainly instinctive, for the chick within the egg cannot possibly 
have learnt their meaning by experience. Domestic chicks 
have at least six different call-notes, all expressing different 
meanings : a gentle piping of contentment, a low double note 
of enjoyment heard when the little bird is caressed, a cheep of 
discontent when it wants food or company, a squeak of protest 
when it is handled against its inclination, a shrill cry of distress 
when it is taken away from its companions, and, lastly, the 
peculiar danger cry. The danger cry seems to be a universal 
language, for it is understood by young birds of other species. 
It is very important indeed that young birds should under- 
stand the parents' danger signals, because they seem to have 
no instinctive fear of any animal which approaches them 
quietly. If you are very gentle in your movements, you may 
feed nestlings without their showing signs of alarm unless their 
parents are present to utter a note of warning ; and most people 
who have a cat and a garden are aware how frequently pussy is 
allowed by young birds to approach dangerously near, in her 
quiet, stealthy way, with fatal results. As for dogs. Professor 
Lloyd Morgan gives a most amusing instance of the natural 
absence of fear of them amongst young birds, in the case of his 
fox-terrier, which had been trained to be on his best behaviour 
and always to remain perfectly calm in the presence of chicks. 
As a result of his self-restraint the dog was treated with the 
utmost familiarity by all sorts of young birds : a Wild Duck 

23 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

nibbled his lips ; Plovers, Pheasants, and Partridges pecked his 
nose ; and an ordinary chicken two and a half days old crept in 
under his body, and finding it nice and warm, cuddled down 
there! Now, if the parents of any of these little birds had 
been present they would at once have called their chicks away 
from such a dangerous acquaintance as a dog, and having been 
warned the little ones would afterwards have treated those 
animals with respect. That is an instance of the manner in 
which education often takes the place of instinct. 

(The promptness with which young birds obey their parents' 
warning cry in the presence of danger is very remarkable. If 
an old Pheasant be surprised while jauntily leading a string of 
fluffy chicks from a hedgerow into the open, it will itself, after 
uttering notes of warning, immediately disappear into the 
nearest cover. Not so the little ones ; they instantly stand as 
motionless as if they were turned to stone, each one in the 
exact position in which it happened to be at the moment when 
the signal was given, and though you pass within a yard of 
them they will probably make not the slightest movement nor 
in any other way betray their presence. As soon as the danger 
has passed the old bird will rejoin her family and take charge 
of them again. 

The instinct to remain motionless in order to avoid being seen 
is a very common one amongst chicks which are hatched on the 
ground and begin to run about almost immediately. Such 
chicks are clothed in down which usually matches the colour of 
their surroundings, and so may easily escape notice. This is 
called 'protective colouration.*" Often there are stripes, patches, 
bands, or collars of a lighter or darker colour than the rest of 
the down, which aid the deception by making the owner look 
like two or more separate objects, such as stones or little lumps 
of earth, lying on the ground. Unlike the Pheasant chicks 
mentioned above, most of these birds drop flat on the earth and 
crouch there with their necks pressed close down. In that posi- 
tion they are practically unrecognisable unless you catch their 

24 




stereo Copyright. Underu'ood i 



London and Xew York 



Baby Ostrich leaving the Egg 

The baby ostrich is one of the most precocious of chicks, and can run about as soon as it 
escapes from the egg, sometimes literally carrying a portion of the shell on its back. When 
it is born its feathers look very much like the spines of a hedgehog. 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

eye, and when they stand up again they seem to have appeared 
suddenly from nowhere. 

Young Game-birds begin to practise standing on their feet 
very soon after they are hatched, and in a few hours can walk 
quite well. That is so even when they are hatched in an 
incubator, though in these circumstances they take about twice 
as long to learn as when they have a mother to look after them. 
Ducklings and Moorhens are more backward, and if they try 
to stand on one foot and scratch themselves with the other 
during the first day of their life they topple over, whereas an 
ordinary chicken can perform this feat of skill quite creditably. 

Few young birds are more precocious than Ostrich chicks. 
These birds make their appearance from the eggs covered with 
a bristle-like growth which has very much the same appearance 
as the quills of a hedgehog, as you may see in the illustration 
opposite. They can not only run easily, but are quite capable 
of feeding themselves from the first, though it is said that they 
will not begin to pick up food unless they are taught to do so 
either by the old bird or by the person who has charge of them 
suggestively tapping on the ground in imitation of a bird 
pecking. It is certain that chicks of various kinds which have 
been hatched artificially can be induced in this way to begin 
feeding themselves, and the natives of Assam, who are in the 
habit of rearing newly hatched Pheasants which they find in 
the jungle, teach them to take their rice by tapping among 
it. It is said that without this help many would die. 

But I think it is very likely that they would soon learn to help 
themselves, even if they were left to their own devices. At all 
events no such instruction was needed by a young chicken three 
days old, which until then had been kept carefully blindfolded. 
When the bandage was removed this little bird first of all sat 
and chirped for about five minutes, while it took a general view 
of the strange world in which it suddenly found itself. Very 
soon its attention was attracted by a fly some distance away ; it 
then began pecking its own toes, and learnt to aim well so quickly 

25 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

that a few moments later, on making a dart at the fly, which 
had crawled within reach, it seized and swallowed it at the 
first attempt. It next tackled and disabled a hive bee ; but at 
the end of twenty minutes it had still not moved a step. On 
being placed within sight of a Hen and her brood, however, 
the little bird showed that it could use its feet as cleverly as its 
beak, for after chirping for a minute or so it made for the 
family party as straight as possible over the rough ground, 
leaping over small stones and running round larger obstacles 
without a single blunder. 

Young birds are always more quickly attracted by moving 
food, and that is why a Hen picks up and drops in front of her 
chicks the grains of food which she wishes them to eat, even 
when they have learnt how to peck. Nestlings whose food is 
placed in their mouths by their parents cannot be taught to 
pick it up from the ground like chicks until they are much 
older ; as a rule, all that they can do is to open their mouths 
very wide and wait for it to be given to them. Young Moor- 
hens, however, which are fed from their mother's beak at first, 
will peck upwards at anything that is offered to them, but not 
downwards. 

When a young bird has learnt how to take its food, it has to 
learn by experience what is nice and what is nasty, what is 
good for it and what is not. Here the mother's guidance is of 
great assistance, for the chick seems to have no instinctive 
knowledge of these things ; it will peck at anything that is not 
too large, whether it be its own toes or a small stone, its com- 
panions' eyes or a maggot. Like a puppy which will attempt 
to swallow almost any object which is not disagreeable to the 
taste, even a piece of string, until it learns better, the young 
chick will try everything, test it in its bill, and store up its 
impressions for future use. In the case of two things which 
both have the same appearance, but one of which is pleasant to 
the palate and the other distasteful, such as yolk of egg and 
orange peel, the chick's behaviour depends on which of the two 

26 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

is picked up first. If it be the nasty one, and it happens to 
have a very unpleasant flavour, probably nothing will induce 
the Httle fellow to taste ^:he other which resembles it in 
appearance ; but if he has the nice morsel first, he will after- 
wards probably try the nasty kind more than once before he 
gives it up in disgust ; he is then, however, suspicious of the 
nice food too, and refuses it for some time, though he may 
eventually peck at it hesitatingly and give it another trial. 

It is just the same in the case of insect food; unless the 
mother is present to give warning, a chick has to learn by 
personal and perhaps painful experience what kinds may safely 
be eaten and what kinds have stings or are otherwise undesir- 
able. But though young birds apparently have no instinctive 
knowledge of what is good to eat and what will lead to uncom- 
fortable sensations, they are often preserved from painful con- 
sequences arising out of ignorance by a wholesome fear of 
anything big, especially if it buzzes. A bluebottle is as sus- 
picious an object as a bee to a very young chick, who is often 
deceived by his noisy, blustering conduct into imagining that 
he is better left alone ; but the deception does not last very 
long, and like other blustering fellows the fly is soon found 
out. A young Plover which will peck at a small worm is 
afraid of a big one. Old birds also are suspicious of anything 
of unusual size. If you have been in the habit of putting 
breadcrumbs on your window-sill for the Sparrows, try the 
effect some day of placing a large slice of bread there instead ; 
it is quite likely that you will find the birds are shy and 
suspicious at first, and refuse to come near it until they have 
grown accustomed to such an unusual object and have made up 
their minds that it is not dangerous. 

But although young birds are naturally cautious, they are of 
course further protected from the danger of taking improper 
food by their parents, who give them only what is good for 
them and often induce them to eat by making pretence of doing 
so themselves, just as a mother often persuades her child to eat 

27 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

his dinner by pretending to take a spoonful to show how nice 
it is. 

Unless young birds are taught to drink by their mother, they 
generally seem to learn quite by accident — that is to say, how- 
ever thirsty they may be they do not recognise water by sight, 
but only find out by experience that that is what they want. 
The discovery may be made in various ways — by pecking at a 
dewdrop, or at some speck or grain in the water, or at the edge 
of the water where it is in tremulous movement, or at a bubble ; 
the beak then becomes wet, and that seems to be enough to 
awaken the drinking instinct, for the little bird at once 
quenches its thirst after the manner of its kind. One chick 
will imitate another; but if there is neither an old bird to 
teach them nor a more forward youngster to imitate, they 
have to find out for themselves what drinking is, and they find 
out accidentally. 

Young Ducklings appear to be no wiser. If they are not in 
charge of their mother, they will walk about for some time in 
shallow water without taking any notice of it until one of them 
finds out suddenly that it is good to drink. It is very interest- 
ing to learn that even the dogs which were born during the 
Discovoij Expedition in the far south, and had never seen 
water except in the frozen state, did not know in the least what 
to do with it when it was first offered to them. They had 
always quenched their thirst by eating snow, and they grew 
very thirsty indeed before eventually they were taught to 
drink by having their noses forcibly thrust into the water. 

Though young birds, newly fledged, cannot fly either as 
quickly or as confidently as their parents, and skill only comes 
with practice, they begin to use their wings instinctively as 
soon as the feathers are large enough to support them in the 
air ; indeed, even before they are fledged they stretch out their 
little featherless wings if they feel themselves falling. Any 
one who cares to make a simple experiment with an ordinary 
chicken may see that this is so. The best way to do it is to 

28 ' 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

take a chicken not more than a day or two old and place it in 
a basket ; then raise the basket as high as possible and suddenly 
lower it, and you will see the little bird at once open its wings, 
though they are not yet of the slightest use for preventing it 
from falling. A few days later the chicken not only spreads its 
wings, but flaps them as if in flight ; and if frightened while on 
the ground, it flaps them as it runs in trying to escape. 

The early flights of young birds seldom carry them very far, 
but some kinds are more successful than others in their 
attempts. Young Swallows are perhaps as clever as any ; they 
launch themselves boldly from the nest, circling round and 
alighting again without a blunder. Others go through an 
elaborate course of training before they venture to attempt 
actual flight. Young Storks, for example, begin by moving 
round the edge of the nest flapping their wings ; then they 
take a little jump and learn to support themselves for a moment 
in the air, rising higher at each attempt, but taking care 
always to keep over the nest until they are able to remain in 
the air for half a minute or more. Having at length gained 
confidence by this kind of practice, they glide out boldly from 
the margin and indulge in short flights around their home, 
and eventually they get suflicient courage to take refuge on a 
neighbouring roof. 

Occasionally fledglings are too timid to attempt to fly until 
their parents urge them to make an effort. Usually a little 
gentle encouragement is all that is required, with the off'er of 
something nice to eat as an inducement. I have often watched 
Sparrows fluttering before their young ones with a tempting 
morsel held in the beak, uttering persuasive calls ; and Hawks 
frequently place the game which they bring home to their 
young just out of their reach when they are old enough to fly, 
and so tantalise them into taking their first lesson. 

Persuasion, however, is not always effective in overcoming the 
young birds' timidity, and in that case their parents have to 
resort to sterner methods. Many a fledgling is compelled 

29 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

to take its first flight by being turned out of the nest, neck and 
crop. House-Martins are said sometimes to drag out their 
laggard children with their beak ; and such birds as Falcons and 
Eagles vigorously insist on their family leaving home as soon 
as they are old enough to look after themselves. 

Water-birds, also, exercise a wholesome discipline over their 
young, in compelling them to practise swimming and diving. 
The young birds, however, are usually very precocious, and they 
never have to learn how to swim. Many of them are extra- 
ordinarily skilful in the art almost from the moment when they 
leave the egg. Young Moorhens swim before they can walk, 
and though their first strokes are rather sprawly, they soon get 
the correct Moorhen action. In South America there is found 
a bird called the Jacana {Parrajaeand), whose habits are very 
similar to those of our Moorhen, but whose swimming powers 
at birth are even more remarkable, as Mr. Hudson accidentally 
discovered. On a certain occasion, while examining a Jacana's 
egg which he had just removed from the nest, he found that 
the shell was already chipped and the chick about to make its 
escape. The old birds were greatly excited, and poured out 
their loud cries with a sound very much like a policeman^s 
rattle ; perhaps their calling stirred up the chick to make a 
great effort, for the shell suddenly parted and the young bird 
leaped into the water. Although that was its first m.oment of 
life outside the e^gg^ it immediately behaved like a practised 
swimmer, stretching out its neck and paddling quickly to a 
neighbouring mound, where it hid itself in the grass, lying 
perfectly still like a young Plover. 

A curious fact of which few people are aware is that ordinary 
domestic chickens a day old can swim quite well until their 
down becomes sodden, but as they grow up they lose this 
instinctive skill, and an adult Hen floats about and struggles 
aimlessly if she finds herself in deep water. It is a remarkable 
circumstance, too, that if young water-birds, such as Ducklings, 
are kept away from the water beyond the usual time for begin- 

30 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

ning to swim they rather shrink from it at first ; the moment 
they get a ducking, however, the hereditary instinct is aroused 
and they know exactly how to behave — at all events when the 
first feeling of surprise has passed away. Those that are 
hatched in nests surrounded by, or close beside, the water 
usually take to an aquatic life almost immediately, while others 
are led down to the water by their parents as soon as they are 
old enough to undertake the journey. It is only the latter 
that require persuasion or compulsion before they will make the 
plunge. Young Penguins are not conducted to the sea until 
they have doffed their baby plumage, but when that time comes 
they are pushed rudely in by the old birds in spite of their 
protests. Eider-Ducks are introduced to their new element in a 
gentler and more scientific fashion, the mother taking them on 
her back and swimming a few yards with them, whereupon she 
dives and so fairly launches them, to sink or swim by their own 
efforts. Dabchicks take their little ones under their wings and 
hold them there while they dive. The chicks are excellent 
swimmers, but are disposed to board their parent on every 
opportunity ; if they become too troublesome they are chastised 
with a sharp peck. 

A Dabchick's nest is a sodden mass of weeds, so the very 
young chicks are brooded and kept warm on their mother's 
back, under the wing, until they are old enough to sleep on the 
water like their parents. This is of course the exact opposite 
of the ordinary way, the vast majority of nestlings being kept 
warm and dry in the nest by the old bird brooding over them. 
Nearly all very young birds, especially those that are born 
naked, have to be protected from rain lest they should die of 
cold. When a heavy shower comes on while the mother is 
away collecting food, she hurries home and sits upon the nest 
with half-spread wings, thus forming a shelter from which the 
raindrops trickle away. 

Young chickens begin to pay attention to their toilet almost 
as soon as they can stand, and I have many times watched 

31 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

them in an incubator a few hours after being hatched arranging 
and combing the down on their breast and shoulders. Bathing, 
too, whether in water or dust, is instinctive. 

It seems probable that young song-birds remember something 
of their parents' song from hearing it during their early days 
in the nest. We know that song is not altogether instinctive, 
as call-notes are, but is to some extent learnt by imitation, 
because a young bird which is hatched in captivity by birds of 
another species learns the song of its foster-parents ; thus a 
Skylark hatched by Linnets learns the Linnet song. But if 
the little bird spends the first few days of its life in the nest 
of its real parents it never quite forgets the notes of its own 
kind. 

There is reason to believe, too, that young birds keep a dim 
remembrance of the architecture of the nest in which they 
were hatched, and that this early memory helps them, when 
instinct leads them later on to set up house on their own 
account, to build nests like those of the rest of their kind. 
But some nests are very complicated, and it is impossible to 
tell how they are constructed merely by looking at the outside, 
so there is little doubt that imitation of other birds plays 
its part here also, and both early memories and imitation are 
probably assisted by an instinctive tendency to build in a 
certain fashion. Young Moorhens are remarkable, as we shall 
see later, for practising nest building while they are still 
chicks. 

Nests are of almost infinite variety and of all degrees of 
elaborateness or simplicity ; indeed, the only character which 
they invariably possess is more or less roundness in shape. As 
many different kinds were described in The Romance of Animal 
Arts and Crafts .^ and there are so many other interesting things 
to be told about birds and their ways, we will not say more 
here on a subject which might easily fill the whole volume. 
Many birds build no nest at all, but lay their eggs in holes 
or on the bare ground. Eggs which are laid in holes are 

32 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

usually white, or have very few markings, because being hidden 
from sight it does not matter how conspicuous they are, while 
eggs laid on the ground without any concealment are covered 
wdth spots or patches or stripes which render them very difficult 
to see from a little distance ; the latter, in short, are pro- 
tectively coloured, like the precocious chicks which we men- 
tioned earlier in this chapter. 

The birds which are most extraordinary in their nesting 
habits are undoubtedly the Cuckoo and a few others of similar 
proclivities. The Cuckoo, as is well known, places each of its 
eggs in the nest of some bird of another species — the Pied 
Wagtail, for example, or the Titlark or Hedge-Sparrow — and 
leaves it to the care of the rightful owner of the nest. The 
egg is first deposited on the ground, from which the Cuckoo 
afterwards takes it up in her bill and, seizing an opportunity 
when the Wagtail or other bird is not at home, cautiously 
places it amongst the eggs already contained in the nest. In 
course of time the young Cuckoo is hatched, and then a dread- 
ful tragedy is enacted, for this bird enters upon a career of 
misdoing in its earliest infancy. It is an ugly youngster, with- 
out a vestige of a feather, its eyes are not yet opened, and its 
thin neck is apparently too weak to support its unprepossessing 
head ; but in spite of its blind and naked condition it is able by a 
wonderful instinct, aided in all probability by an extraordinarily 
developed sense of touch, to carry out the murderous eviction 
of all its foster brothers and sisters or of any eggs that remain 
unhatched. 

The earliest account which we have of the exact way in 
which the deed is performed is that of the great Jenner, 
known to fame as the discoverer of vaccination, whose ob- 
servations have many times been corroborated in the most 
minute detail. The young Cuckoo struggles about in the nest 
until it gets its broad, shovel-shaped back under an egg or one 
of its fellow tenants ; it then climbs backwards up the side of 
the nest and, standing with its legs straddled well apart, 
c 33 



NURSERY DAYS AND EDUCATION 

heaves its burden on to the edge, completing the business by 
elbowing it fairly over the margin with its featherless wings. 
Having made sure by feeling about that it has really gone 
overboard, the blind little monster sinks to the bottom of the 
nest and rests until sufficiently recovered to hoist another 
victim on its shoulders and thrust it out in the same manner. 
In this merciless fashion all are sacrificed, and the usurper 
remains in sole possession of the nursery. 

Not the least strange part of the story is that the birds 
whose young he has murdered make a spoilt child of him. He 
becomes the sole object of their solicitous care and thrives 
under their devotion. Even when fully fledged and con- 
siderably larger than his hard -worked foster-parents, the 
overgrown youngster continues for some time to receive stolidly 
every insect that they can bring him. To see him receiving 
their dainty offerings is a ludicrous spectacle, for often they 
have difficulty in reaching his bill, and are obliged to perch 
between his shoulders in order to put the food into his cavern- 
ous, orange-yellow mouth. 

From the examples we have given it will be clear that a 
newly hatched nestling is possessed of a wonderfully complex 
automatic machinery which enables it, when exposed to certain 
conditions, to perform instinctive acts with a great amount of 
skill. But we have also seen that young birds learn by ex- 
perience and imitation, and that they are even taught many 
things by their parents. In this way instinct becomes to a great 
extent replaced by intelligence; and the more intelligent the 
bird, the longer the education through which it passes in its 
early days before it is able to look after itself and make its own 
way in the world. 



34 



CHAPTER II 
SITTING 

Incubation period — Division of labour — Domesticated husbands — Swifts — 
A rebellious hen— The cloistered Hornbill— Manner of leaving and 
returning to the nest — Protective colouration — Scene in a heronry — 
Pelican Island — Incubation under difficulties — Cold and heat. 

A ITER an egg has been laid, as everybody knows, it must 
/\ be kept warm for a certain length of time, amounting in 
'^ ^ most cases to two or three weeks, before the chick is 
hatched. No less familiar is the method by which this is 
effected, and there are few phases of bird-life which are easier 
to observe. Anybody may, if they care to do so, see a Hen 
upon the nest, brooding over her eggs with feathers puffed out 
and wings slightly drooped, covering them patiently hour after 
hour with her warm body, leaving them only for a brief 
interval from time to time in order to feed, and, after making a 
hurried meal, returning anxiously to her treasures to renew her 
long vigil, until at last, on some wonderful day, her patience is 
rewarded and she emerges from her obscurity in all the pride of 
motherhood, surrounded by a brood of tiny chicks. We all 
know this, so why have a chapter about brooding.^ Is there 
anything more to be said on such a very commonplace subject.'' 
Yes, there is a great deal to be told — far more than we have 
space for here — and I think we shall find that, like most pages 
from the life-history of a bird, the more we know of it, the 
more interesting it becomes. 

The period of incubation, as it is called — the period that 
elapses between the moment when the bird begins to ' sit ' and 
the hatching of the egg — varies greatly with different kinds of 

35 



SITTING 

birds. The domestic Fowl usually takes just three weeks, but 
its near relative, the Pheasant, takes several days longer. Most 
of our little songsters hatch their young in about a fortnight, 
and some small birds only require ten days ; but a Swan must 
brood upon her eggs five weary weeks or longer, and the great 
Condor has to wait almost two months before her hungry 
offspring emerges from the shell. It is usually supposed that 
weather and climate have something to do with the length of 
time required for the hatching of the eggs — that the same sort 
of eggs will hatch sooner in warm weather than in cold, in a 
hot climate than in a cool one ; but about this we really know 
very little, though it seems probable that these things may 
make some little difference. 

We are accustomed to speak of the brooding bird as " she," 
and we are seldom wrong in doing so, for in almost all cases the 
female takes the principal if not the only part in the duties of 
incubation. If we turn to the most primitive and least intelli- 
gent of the birds, however, we find just the opposite state of 
affairs ; with them it is the male who takes upon himself these 
duties, while his spouse enjoys a life of freedom. A little 
higher in the scale, amongst birds of rather more intelligence, 
cock and hen share the brooding between them, but we already 
find the female performing the greater part of the work and 
her partner acting only as assistant. When we come to the 
most highly developed and most intelligent of birds, the wife 
undertakes the brooding, while the husband feeds and tends 
her and occasionally relieves her for a little while ; he watches 
over her, warns her of danger, protects her, entertains her, 
sings to her, and generally behaves to her like a good husband. 
A charming and, so far as we are aware, quite unique character- 
istic of the domestic life of the Hawk-Owl {Sumia ulula) has 
been noticed by Mr. Seebohm, who states that sometimes both 
the parent birds are found sitting upon the nest in company. 

It is interesting to find that in all cases in which the hen is 
larger and more brightly coloured than her mate, she consist- 

36 



SITTING 

ently shirks her duties, and he takes her place in sitting upon 
the eggs. There are not many such birds, and of these but a 
single species nests in Great Britain — the Red-necked Phala- 
rope {Plialaropus hyperhoreiLs). The Phalaropes are amongst the 
most graceful of birds, and are allied to the Plovers, but, unlike 
those birds, they are equally at home on land or water. Their 
nest is placed on the ground, among heather or herbage, and 
when the male bird is brooding over the four pale-brown, dark- 
spotted eggs, he is so faithful to his charge that he will hardly 
leave them to escape being trodden upon. Indeed, these birds 
are extraordinarily tame ; and it is unfortunate for them that 
they are so, for they fall easy victims to the collector, and 
the race is rapidly becoming extinct in Britain. That is a fate 
which has already overtaken their relatives the Dotterel and 
the Godwit, which now only come to us as occasional visitors. 
Both these birds resemble the Phalaropes in the male being 
smaller than the female and performing the office of brooding, 
in which his partner takes no share. In the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries the Godwit was a famous table delicacy 
and was netted in great numbers ; at the same time it was 
being robbed of its resorts in the fens by drainage, so that it is 
now lost to us. The Dotterel, one of the most beautiful of the 
Plover kind, has shared the same fate ; and we have thus, 
through their trustfulness and our own folly, deprived our- 
selves of three of the most charming of birds. The word 
Dotterel means ' Little Dolt ' ; whether the bird owes its 
name to the ease with which it is caught, or to the eccentric 
behaviour of the male in sitting on the eggs while his wife 
wanders abroad, or to both, we cannot say. 

Some birds, amongst which are the Owls, occasionally begin 
to brood as soon as the first egg is laid. Owls are not quite so 
wise as they look, but in their domestic arrangements they 
would certainly appear to display much wisdom if there were 
any reason to suppose that they could foresee the result of 
their action. It is clear that the eggs which are first laid and 

37 



SITTING 

brooded over will hatch before those which are laid several 
days later, and this is an advantage to the parents in two ways. 
In the first place, it makes it easier for the old birds to provide 
for their young ; and, further, the warmth of the earlier chicks 
helps to incubate the eggs which are still unhatched while the 
father and mother are both away hunting for food. But the 
plan would not do at all in the case of birds which can run 
about almost as soon as they are hatched, because the parent 
bird would not be able to brood over the eggs and to take 
charge of her precocious children, both at the same time. We 
find, therefore, that birds such as Pheasants and Plovers never 
begin to sit until all the eggs have been laid. 

We have already mentioned that the cock often keeps the 
hen company and sings to her when she is on the nest. He 
may sit on a neighbouring twig while he pours forth his song ; 
he may soar aloft like the Lark ; or, like the Swift, he may call 
out a cheery greeting as he skims past her in rapid flight. This 
habit of the Swifts was, I believe, first noticed by Gilbert 
White. The Swift is especially lively in sultry, thundery 
weather. " In hot mornings several, getting together in little 
parties, dash round the steeples and churches, squeaking as 
they go in a very clamorous manner ; these, by nice observers, 
are supposed to be males, serenading their sitting hens; and 
not without reason, since they seldom squeal till they come 
close to the walls or eaves, and since those within utter at the 
same time a little inward note of complacency." 

In the evening, however, after the hen has been sitting all 
the day in her dark nest, she darts out in the fading twilight 
and "stretches and relieves her weary limbs, and snatches a 
scanty meal for a few minutes, and then returns to her duty of 
incubation." But she does not always return very willingly; 
sometimes the joy of that mad flight is too fascinating for her, 
and she cannot make up her mind to return to the narrow hole 
under the eaves. And so her flight is prolonged, until her 
husband has to interfere. He dashes after her to remind her 

38 



SITTING 

that she really must be going home — that she has already been 
out too long, and that the eggs are growing cold ; and will she 
please come back this very minute ? 

Mr. Hudson^ describes how he watched the Swifts at Seaford 
going through this interesting performance. He says : " It 
was curious and amusing to see a pair in some cases, the hen- 
bird wildly rushing away, the mate in mad pursuit, and then 
when with infinite pains she had been driven home suddenly 
dashing off again, and the wild chase about the sky beginning 
afresh. Once I saw the hen-bird break away four times after 
being brought to the breeding-hole ; but after the fourth time 
she remained in the nest, and the good, zealous husband went 
away to enjoy himself. A swift chasing his wife home in the 
evening can easily be distinguished from one swift chasing 
another swift for fun, or whatever the motive is that keeps 
them in a perpetual hunt after one another. He follows her 
closely in all her mad flights and sudden doublings until he 
has got her face towards home, and then keeping close 
to her agitates his wings in a peculiar manner, at intervals 
gliding smoothly, uttering all the time a measured sharp 
clicking chirp — a sound as of repeated strokes on a piece of 
metal." 

The Hornbills (Bucerotidce), birds with an immensely devel- 
oped bill surmounted by a curious outgrowth called the casque, 
are given no opportunity of playing truant when they should 
be keeping their eggs warm, for the hen-bird is carefully 
imprisoned by her mate in the hollow tree where the eggs are 
deposited, and must remain there until the young are almost 
fuUy fledged. The incarceration is effected by building up a 
strong barrier at the entrance, leaving only a narrow slit 
through which the hen-bird can protrude her bill to receive the 
food brought to her by her husband. This may appear a very 
tyrannous proceeding, but there is no reason to believe that the 
imprisonment is not quite voluntary, for the female often her- 
^ Nature in Bownland^ p. 201. 
39 



SITTING 

self assists in building the wall, which serves to protect her 
against the attacks of monkeys and large lizards. The male 
bird is very attentive, and the way in which he feeds his wife is 
one of the most remarkable features in the life of these strange 
birds. 

Their diet is strictly vegetarian, consisting of various kinds 
of grape- and berry-like fruits. These are collected by the 
husband and brought home to his wife, and so far there is nothing 
extraordinary in the proceeding, for many birds practise this 
courtesy. What is so remarkable in the case of the Hornbill is 
that the fruit is offered in a neat little purse-like bag ! The 
bag is about the size of a fig, which it resembles also in shape, 
and is made of some elastic material, so that it is neatly filled 
by the little collection of fruit which it contains. When first 
these curious bags of fruit were discovered they were a great 
puzzle to naturalists, but it was soon found that the bag is 
composed of the lining of the bird's gizzard, which becomes 
loosened and is cast off in one piece. We cannot wonder, there- 
fore, that after feeding his partner for several weeks the devoted 
male is worn to a shadow by his self-sacrifice ! 

It is interesting to observe the various ways in which different 
species of birds leave and return to the nest. The departure is 
usually effected without ceremony, the bird flying directly from 
the side of the nest very quietly so as not to betray its where- 
abouts, but, as most boys are aware, some species, such as 
Blackbirds, are very clamorous and make a great fuss if they 
are surprised and frightened off the eggs while sitting. That, 
however, is not their usual method of leaving home ; but there 
is clearly nothing to be gained by silence when the bird knows 
that its nest is already discovered. The Swallow-tailed Kite 
{Elanoides furcatus) has a peculiar way of rising straight up 
from the nest for a little distance, as if it were projected by a 
spring. No other bird behaves in quite the same manner, 
and its method of alighting is equally peculiar, for it hangs in 
the air a few feet above the nest with its outspread wings 

40 



SITTING 

apparently motionless, and then lowers itself upon the eggs so 
gradually that it is difficult to say just when it alights. 

Kites and other similar birds which build high in trees, or 
other inaccessible places, and are strong enough to defend their 
homes against winged marauders, need not attempt to conceal 
their goings and comings, but it is different with the ground- 
builders, whose safety depends entirely on their success in 
escaping observation. Many of these birds make hardly any 
nest — some, indeed, have none at all — and the colour of their 
eggs is in such perfect harmony with that of their surround- 
ings that it is very difficult to detect them unless you know the 
exact spot in which to look for them. Frequently the birds 
themselves are also protectively coloured, so that it is only 
when they are moving that they are at all likely to be dis- 
covered. Such birds as these have quite a different method 
of going and coming. In the first place, they seldom fly 
directly from the nest, but run a little distance before rising 
from the ground. I believe the Skylark, to take a familiar 
example, always does this, and I have never seen one alight 
directly upon its nest. 

Some of the larger ground-nesting birds are extremely 
cautious in their movements, but their methods differ even in 
the same species. A remarkable instance of this is afforded 
by the Stone-Curlew (CEdicnemus scolopax\ one of our summer 
visitors which is met with chiefly in Norfolk and on that account 
is often spoken of as the Norfolk Plover. It is one of the 
largest of the Plovers, and resorts to barren, stony ground with 
scanty vegetation, where it lays its two eggs on a level spot, 
without the slightest attempt at a nest. The eggs so closely 
resemble in colour the sandy, flint-strewn surface that only a 
practised eye can detect them, and the drab, mottled plumage 
of the bird enables it to escape notice except at quite close 
quarters. Even then, as it squats with its neck outstretched 
close to the ground, it would usually pass unobserved if it 
would but keep its large, bright, golden eyes closed. Now 

41 



SITTING 

this bird has two distinct methods of approaching its eggs. 
One way is to move very deliberately and stealthily, making 
long, slow strides, with its head held low. From time to time 
it pauses or remains perfectly still for several minutes, and pro- 
ceeding thus it has frequently been seen by patient observers 
to take ten minutes or longer in arriving at the nest from a 
point only a few feet away. 

The other method, which is only adopted, I believe, after the 
birds have begun to sit, is well described by Mr. Trevor-Battye in 
his Pictures in Prose. He says : ''iThe pair of which I speak 
had chosen the middle of a gravelly space among the pines. By 
creeping up on hands and knees under cover of a bank one 
could gain a position, just fifteen paces away from the nest, 
without being observed: so close that with my glass I could see 
the light shine through the crystal prominence of the sitting 
bird's great yellow eyes. At intervals one bird would relieve 
the other on the nest. When disturbed the birds always ran 
for shelter to a bank beneath the pines. And here the bird 
that was not sitting always stood as sentry. When its turn came 
to relieve its mate it would walk pretty deliberately across the 
first part of the open, where it was more or less screened by a 
fringe of trees ; and there, having reached a point that was 
commanded from a long way off', it would suddenly lower its 
head, and run as fast as a red-leg to the nest. When it was 
about a yard away the sitting bird would slip off" and, staying 
for no greetings, run past and away to the pine-bank." Mr. 
Trevor-Battye noticed that the bird always rose from the nest 
backwards, and so avoided disturbing the eggs with its long 
legs. He also observed that " the new-comer did not turn the 
eggs immediately, but squatted perfectly still for perhaps a 
minute, as if to make sure it was not disturbed. And after the 
eggs were satisfactorily bestowed, and all the coast seemed clear, 
the bird would close its eyes in the hot sunshine and appear to go 
to sleep. But even then I could scarce move so much as a finger 
above the grasses, but instantly it was off" its nest and away.'" 

42 



SITTING 

This delightful picture of the domestic life of the Stone- 
Curlew introduces us to another interesting question of bird- 
life : the way in which a bird relieves its partner upon the nest. 

Let us first take an instance of a home-coming from amongst 
the birds of our own land. When I was a boy I used occasion- 
ally to make a breathless excursion to a small heronry which 
was situated in the midst of carefully preserved lands in a mid- 
land county. Even now I have a vivid recollection of more 
than one such visit, for the way lay through hostile country 
where schoolboys did not meet with a very cordial reception, 
and the keeper, a thick-set man with keen grey eyes and a 
stone-wall expression — or perhaps brick-waW would give a more 
correct impression of his sunburnt complexion — was a danger 
to be reckoned with before venturing within the bounds ; seen 
face to face at close quarters (it happened once), there was a 
positively painful suggestion of massive strength about him, 
and an even more discomforting suggestion in the short ash- 
plant (I never saw him carry a gun) which seemed to be a part 
of his awe-inspiring presence. I mention the keeper because he 
had a hut or shelter close by the heronry, and it was owing to 
this circumstance that I spent more time watching the birds 
than might otherwise have been the case. 

Late one afternoon I had cautiously approached the heronry 
along a hedge and through a tangle of undergrowth when this 
much-dreaded person suddenly appeared outside his hut, and 
there was nothing for it but to lie hidden and await an oppor- 
tunity to escape. Herons have learnt from sad experience to be 
the shyest of birds where man is concerned, but the members of 
this little colony must have decided that the keeper was their 
good friend. Now I think of it, I believe it was because, as I 
have already mentioned, he never carried a gun — nor did I ever 
hear a gun fired in the neighbourhood. At all events, the 
birds did not appear to be disturbed by his presence, and were 
certainly not nearly so much alarmed as the small boy crouch- 
ing amongst the bushes. 

43 



SITTING 

On that afternoon, watching alternately the leisurely move- 
ments of the keeper and the bird life around, I got to know 
more about the domestic life of Herons than I ever had an 
opportunity of learning for myself before or after, and amongst 
other things I was fortunate enough to see one of the birds 
return to the nest, where his partner had been patiently sitting, 
and take his place upon the eggs. All that had been visible of 
the sitting bird was her sharp bill, and occasionally her head 
and a portion of her long neck, outlined against the sky over 
the margin of the big nest of sticks near the summit of a tall 
elm tree, and it was a sharp movement of this tantalising object 
which first directed my attention to the returning bird. Look- 
ing towards the sky, I saw him sailing in the direction of the 
heronry in a grand downward sweep, his legs trailing out behind, 
his wings outspread and raised high above his back, and his 
neck bent in a sharp curve so that his head was drawn far back 
close to the body. As he drew near, his partner uttered a 
sudden harsh cry of greeting, which he answered by a wild 
scream as he stretched out his neck and came rushing down. 

Just before he reached home his great hollow wings were 
brought smartly downwards to check his fall as he alighted and 
balanced himself on the edge of the nest ; at the same moment, 
his mate stood up and they joined in a regular duet of scream- 
ing. Whether she was scolding him for being so late and he 
was explaining that it had taken him so long to get his dinner 
that he really couldn't help it, or whether they were just telling 
one another how glad they were to meet again, it was impossible 
to say. In any case, they soon became silent, and then the bird 
which had just arrived lowered his head and seemed to be care- 
fully examining the eggs before bending his long legs and 
sinking down into the hollow of the nest. As he disappeared 
from sight his partner shook out her plumage and flew off, 
with slowly beating wings, towards the feeding-grounds, and 
again the voices of the small birds in the bushes below, un- 
observed while this interesting scene was being enacted, were 

44 



f ,4^ 




stereo Copyright, Underwood &• U. London and Xetu York 

Brown Pelicans at Home 

Pelican Island, off the east coast of Florida, has been handed over to these birds 
by the American Government, by whom they are strictly protected. So many pelicans, 
have set up house on the island that all the mangrove trees have been killed. 



SITTING 

the only sounds that broke the silence of the heronry. All this 
took place, as I have good cause to remember, late in the after- 
noon ; the other change — for these birds only work two shifts 
during the whole of the day and night — occurs in the early 
morning soon after the sun is up. 

On the east coast of Florida there is a muddy islet, not more 
than three or four acres in extent, which is known as Pelican 
Island because a colony of Brown Pelicans (Pelecanus fuscus) 
have annexed it for their very own. They are practically the 
only inhabitants, and their claim is backed up by the Govern- 
ment of the United States, who will not allow any one to inter- 
fere with the birds. Nobody is at all likely to want to take 
possession of their diminutive country, because it is little more 
than a mud-bank and only one little corner of that is really 
safe, for when the ' northers ^ come the waters sweep over the 
remainder of the islet and destroy scores of nests. The 
Pelicans, however, are a patriotic race and devoted to the land 
of their birth ; no doubt they regard it as a very fine country 
indeed, for they return to it year after year for the purpose of 
bringing up their families. When they first landed the tiny 
islet was well grown with mangroves, which are equally fond of 
mud-banks ; but so many Pelicans went to live there and built 
their nests upon them, that tree after tree was killed, and at 
the present time there is scarcely one remaining which does 
not present the desolate appearance which is shown so well in 
our photograph. 

The birds arrive early in November, and within a month 
they have all set up house and are busy laying their two white, 
chalky-looking eggs. The husband and wife share the sitting 
between them, and when the time comes for changing over — 
which occurs at all hours of the day and with no sort of 
regularity — they go through quite an elaborate ceremony. 
Let us suppose that the male is coming home from his fishing. 
He alights near the nest where his partner is sitting, and with 
his great bill pointing straight up in the air he slowly advances, 

45 



SITTING 

waving his head from side to side. His wife, on the contrary, 
sticks the point of her bill down into the nest, twitches her half- 
opened wings, and greets him with a husky, gasping " chuck ! " 
— the only sound a grown-up Pelican can utter. Having 
saluted one another in this curious manner there is a pause in 
the proceedings, which is occupied by both birds preening and 
arranging their feathers. The male then steps on to the nest and 
settles down, while his spouse goes to bathe and attend to her 
toilet before setting out to catch fish for her dinner or to circle 
high into the air in one of the wonderful soaring flights for 
which these great birds are so famous. 

A few birds, such as the Raven, display great hardihood in 
their endurance of cold when sitting. One of the most remark- 
able of these is the Great Horned Owl. In the northern States 
this is the first of all the birds to nest, and in spite of ice and 
snow it starts housekeeping about the end of January. On 
some tall forest tree, very often on the side of a hill, exposed 
to the full force of storms and blizzards, the hardy mother sits 
upon the rude platform of sticks which does duty for a nest, 
while the temperature is still far below zero. It sometimes 
happens that the eggs are frozen by the intense cold ; in that 
case the bird merely buries them in the loose rubbish of the 
nest and, undiscouraged by the disaster, lays another set. The 
same nest may be used year after year, until at last it becomes 
so rotten that, incapable of supporting another family, it falls 
to pieces before the young are reared, and the little ones have 
to be brooded upon the bare bough. 

Equally hardy, on occasion, is the Black Gyrfalcon (Falco 
rusticolus ohsoletus). Mr. Turner, of the United States Signal 
Service, found that a pair of these birds had made their home 
at Fort Chimo on the ledge of a great rock which forms a 
precipice three hundred feet high. The nest was shut in by a 
regular palisade of ice columns, and could only be approached 
by a narrow space or doorway next the main rock ; yet for 
nearly a fortnight the birds had been successfully incubating 

46 



SITTING 

their four eggs in this ice chamber, better suited, one would 
have thought, for cold storage than for hatching ! 

Even this, however, is by no means the most extraordinary case 
of incubation under difficulties. In choice of time and place 
for nesting — if nesting it can be called — the eccentricity of the 
great Emperor Penguin of the Antarctic is unrivalled. Laying 
its single large egg amidst the darkness of a polar winter — 
when the thermometer sometimes shows a temperature of 
100° Fahrenheit below freezing point, and the average for a 
month is but 50° higher than that — this strange bird spends 
the seven coldest weeks of the whole year in brooding over it ; 
and the ground whereon it chooses to keep vigil in these cheer- 
less circumstances is nothing in the world but sea-ice ! To bring 
about a successful result and hatch a chick amidst such con- 
ditions very special and peculiar methods are necessary ; but 
the difficulty, we need hardly say, has been solved in the 
evolution of these remarkable birds, otherwise they could never 
have acquired their extraordinary habit. 

Given a bird, an egg, a field of ice, a temperature 50° below 
freezing point, and never a gleam of sunlight, the problem is 
to keep the egg warm enough for a chick to be produced from 
it. Could anything be more discouraging, or so apparently 
hopeless ? You would suppose that the first essential would be 
that the bird should make a particularly warm nest in which to 
incubate. But without materials nest-building is obviously 
impossible, and as a matter of fact the Emperor Penguin dis- 
penses altogether with such a luxury. The plan it adopts is to 
stand upright and keep the egg off the ice by placing it on the 
top of its large webbed feet, where it is held in position and 
covered by a heavily feathered fold of skin from the under side 
of the body, which hangs over it like a curtain and completely 
hides it. By this close contact with the body a sufficiently high 
temperature is maintained to bring abojit the development of a 
chick, which emerges at the end of the seventh week as queer- 
looking an object as one could well imagine, a pair of wide goggle- 

47 



SITTING 

like rings round its eyes and a thick coat of down giving it a 
general appearance of being dressed for a motor journey. 

Great heat is perhaps more often fatal to the nesting of 
birds than excessive cold. On the plains of India, if a Sand- 
Grouse be frightened from its eggs for any length of time they 
begin to cook under the fierce sun, and doubtless the same 
accident befalls other birds. But if Nature can devise means 
whereby an egg can be hatched in the terrible cold of an 
Antarctic winter, so too can she teach birds how to ward off 
the danger to incubation arising from tropical heat. Thus 
according to the Indians, Dr. Wallace tells us, the Gulls and 
Terns on the Amazon carry water in their beaks, during the heat 
of the day, to moisten their eggs (which are deposited in little 
hollows on the sand -banks) and keep them cool; and other 
birds are said to act on similar principles. This, however, 
introduces us to a subject which we must consider in the next 
chapter — the subject of incubation without body-heat. 



48 



CHAPTER III 
BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

Extremes of the brooding instinct — Aids to incubation — Sun-warmth : its 
advantages and dangers — Ostrich, Sand-Grouse, and Black-backed 
Courser — The Mound-Builders and their incubators — Maleos — Choice of 
ground — Hot springs — The buried chick — Brush-Turkey— Heat from 
fermenting vegetable matter — Attending to the incubator — Large feet of 
Mound-birds — Megapodes — Immense size of mounds —OceUated Mega- 
pode— Precocity of Mound-bird chicks — Volcanic heat. 

WE do not always sufficiently realise how very great is 
the variety of character exhibited by different kinds 
of birds and even by different individuals of the same 
species. I do not refer now to the more conspicuous aspects of 
their nature — the fierceness of the nobler Birds-of-Prey, the 
quarrelsome nature of that familiar rowdy, the Sparrow, the 
sociability of so many other Finches or of Parrots, and so forth 
— these are things which force themselves upon the attention of 
the least observant person. I am thinking rather of the 
domestic side of their lives, and more especially of their way of 
carrying out parental duties. As we have already been con- 
sidering the question of incubation in the last chapter, it will 
be interesting and convenient now to give a few instances of the 
remarkable extremes of this instinct, and to show how some 
birds seem to be overcome by an irresistible longing to devote 
themselves to the tedious duty of brooding over a nest, while 
others manage to become parents without spending a single 
hour of their lives thus occupied. 

In many birds the desire to 'sit' appears at some time or 
other to be quite overwhelming. I need hardly remind you of 
D 49 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

the obstinate way in which a broody Hen will insist upon 
settling down not only upon a nest of eggs, but upon anything 
which bears the slightest resemblance to an egg; she will be 
perfectly satisfied with a smooth stone in a quiet corner, if she 
can find nothing better. Once, in a disused barn, I came upon 
a Hen brooding over two potatoes, and from their appearance 
I have no doubt she had been sitting on them for several days — 
as happy, probably, as a child with a rag doll. And see how 
disconsolate our Hen is if we will not leave her in peace ; how 
dejected she looks as she wanders about the farmyard, until 
at last she "goes off being broody," as the country people 
say. 

A similar longing appears to take possession of the males 
of certain species during the breeding season. It is often seen 
in domestic Pigeons, and, as Mr. Dixon remarks, " the older a 
cock-pigeon grows, the more fatherly does he become. So 
great is his fondness for having a rising family, that an 
experienced unmated cock-bird, if he can but induce some 
flighty young hen to lay him a couple of eggs as a great favour, 
will almost entirely take the charge of hatching and rearing 
them by himself.'" Brehm, the famous German naturalist, 
somewhere describes the amusing situations which he observed 
in Lapland as a result of this instinct in the case of some Auks. 
Amongst these attractive birds the males are in the majority, 
consequently every year some of them are obliged, much against 
their will, to remain bachelors. About Easter-time the great 
flocks hurry back from the sea to reach the bergs where they 
were born — for these birds, like many others, seem always to 
return if possible to their birthplace, when they in their turn 
are intent on bringing up a family of their own. The more 
fortunate ones, that is to say those who have found mates, may 
be seen coquetting and indulging in playful caresses by the way, 
while the disconsolate bachelors keep them company. 

On reaching the berg, they all, married and single, land, and 
the paired birds hasten to put their old nesting-holes in order 

50 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

or to make new ones. In due course a big, top-like egg appears 
in every buiTow, and the happy parents take turns in brooding 
over it. What becomes of the bachelors meanwhile ? They 
too would very much like to brood if they could but find a 
mate, but that is out of the question. So many of them attach 
themselves to some happy couple as friends of the family, 
and keep the husband company while he stands on guard before 
the nest on which his wife is brooding. From time to time, the 
husband takes a turn on the nest while his partner goes to the 
sea to fish, but his bachelor friend still mounts guard ; indeed 
most of his leisure is spent in this way. It is when both 
partners visit the sea together, however, that he finds his oppor- 
tunity and his reward, for on these occasions he eagerly enters 
the burrow and takes a turn at sitting upon the forsaken egg, 
only resigning the position when the owners return. As a 
result of this unselfish conduct orphans are unknown amongst 
these birds, just as they are unknown amongst the Penguins, 
for even if both parents come to grief, the bachelor birds are 
always ready to finish hatching the egg and to take charge of 
the chick during the weeks which pass before it is capable of 
attempting its first flight to the sea. 

Now let us look at the other side of the picture. In striking 
contrast to the birds which we have been considering, there are 
others which so arrange matters as to get their eggs hatched 
without their own personal care and attention during the process 
of incubation — or, at all events, with as little as possible. The 
methods which they adopt to this end are of remarkable 
interest, and we may well devote the remainder of the present 
chapter to describing them. We are not concerned now with 
Cuckoos, which artfully foist their eggs upon other birds and 
leave them to their fate — we have already had something to 
say about their conduct ; but with those birds whose eggs are 
incubated without the help of body-warmth, in much the same 
way as the eggs of domestic fowls are often nowadays hatched 
in an artificial incubator by the heat from a lamp, except that 

51 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

the artificial incubators of the bird world are supplied with 
heat in a different way. 

As might be supposed, it is only in very warm climates that 
birds'* ' artificial incubation "* could as a rule be carried on with 
any hope of success, and you will of course at once guess that 
one way in which it can be brought about is by the heat of the 
sun. Until recent years it was commonly believed that Ostrich 
eggs were always hatched in that way ; but like many other 
popular ideas about the life of birds, this one is not quite true. 
The real facts are as follows. 

The Ostrich, like its near relatives the Emus, Rheas, and 
Cassowaries — all, indeed, except the curious little New Zealand 
Kiwis, which nest in burrows — is content with very little in 
the way of a nest, which consists of nothing more than a 
slight hollow scratched in the ground. We know exactly how 
the Ostrich makes the nest hollow, and as it is as peculiar as 
everything else about this strange bird, it is worth describing. . 

You have no doubt noticed that when an ordinary domestic 
Hen wants to take a dust-bath in the warm weather, she often 
prepares for it by standing on the chosen spot and' scratching 
up the dry earth with her claws until she has made a con- 
venient little hollow in which she can crouch and flutter her 
feathers. Most birds which have occasion to scratch holes in 
the ground, whether for the purpose of dusting, searching for 
food, or providing a receptacle for their eggs, go to work in 
the same manner. Not so the Ostrich ; he uses his immensely 
strong legs in quite a different way. Having decided w^here 
the nest is to be, with one of his wives (he usually has at least 
three or four) in attendance, he sinks down on his breast, and 
in that position proceeds to tear up the sand with powerful 
kicks, casting it behind him as he does so. When one part of 
the hole is deep enough, he turns round and continues the 
operation in another direction until he has made a circular 
hollow, about a yard wide. Meanwhile his wife stands by and 
looks on ; now and then she makes some show of helping him 

52 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

by picking up a little sand in her beak and dropping it about 
the edges of the hole, but her part is mainly that of an inter- 
ested spectator. The work is soon completed, and the result is 
a shallow pit, around which the loosened earth is heaped in a 
low bank. Against this bank, in due course, the outermost 
circle of eggs will rest. The hens now begin to lay, all in the 
same nest, each of them depositing an egg every other day, 
until there are from fifteen to thirty altogether. There may 
be as many more scattered around the nest, and these, as we 
shall see in another chapter, have their own peculiar use. 

Until ten or a dozen eggs have been laid the nest is left un- 
attended, both day and night, with no protection except a 
thin covering of sand against the deadly wild-beast foes which 
prowL about the desert tracts. When that stage is reached, 
however, the male bird begins to brood over the eggs, taking 
his place upon them at nightfall, surrounded by his wives. 
But the process of hatching is principally dependent upon the 
burning sunshine and the hot desert sand, for during the day 
the eggs are left in the pit unattended, covered as before by a 
thin layer of sand, while the birds go hunting for food or make 
long journeys in quest of water. 

In the cooler portions of the country which the Ostriches 
inhabit, and on the South African farms, the heat of the sun 
is apparently not sufficient to enable them thus to play truant, 
for in these localities the hens brood by day. But from the 
boundaries of Barbary, throughout the tropical region to- 
wards the South, where the birds are in attendance, whether 
by day or by night, it would seem to be for the purpose of 
guarding their treasure from jackals and other small beasts of 
prey rather than from any real necessity for helping to keep 
the eggs warm. 

Many birds besides Ostriches and their near relatives are 
relieved to some extent from the duties of incubation owing to 
the warmth of the sun in the countries which they inhabit : 
amongst them are the Sand- Grouse and other species that 

53 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

make their home on deserts and sands. In some places, how- 
ever, where the heat is very great indeed — in the hotter parts 
of India, for instance — we find the exact opposite to be the 
case ; the birds are obliged to remain on the nest all day, 
exposed to the terrible heat, not because the eggs would grow 
cold if left to themselves, but because they would soon be 
cooked if they remained uncovered ! According to Captain 
Verner, the Black-backed Courser {Cursoriits cegyptius\ which 
buries its eggs in the sand on the banks of the Nile, has found 
a more ingenious way out of the difficulty. The bird dips its 
breast in the river until the feathers are thoroughly soaked 
with water, and then presses it against the sand under which 
its eggs are concealed. In this manner the ground is kept 
moist, and the evaporation of the water prevents the sand, and 
therefore the eggs, from becoming overheated, just as those 
porous earthen jars which are used in Spain and other countries 
about the Mediterranean and elsewhere keep the water which 
is contained in them cool and fresh by evaporation of the 
moisture which percolates to the outer surface of the vessel. 

All the birds which we have hitherto mentioned are mere 
amateurs in the making of artificial incubators compared with 
the order of which we have now to speak, that, namely, which 
consists of the various birds known as Mound-Builders. 

Of these there are several kinds, and all of them are humble 
relatives of our Common Fowl, living in Australia and various 
islands from New Guinea to the Philippines. More than three 
hundred years ago travellers brought home wonderful stories of 
the strange habits of these birds, but naturalists were slow to 
believe them, regarding their accounts as mere 'travellers' 
tales '' and nothing more. We know now that these old stories 
were fairly accurate as far as they went, and that they did not 
recount half the curious works which are wrought by the 
Mound-Builders. 

The fact is, the birds of this strange order have discovered 
the art of making efficient artificial incubators which relieve 

54 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

them entirely of the duty of brooding over their eggs. Some 
of them, it is true, merely bury their eggs in the ground, but 
even these are often remarkable for the skill with which they 
choose the sort of gi'ound which will best suit their purpose ; 
others, however, prepare elaborate structures which are begun 
many weeks before the eggs are laid. 

An example of the first kind is the Maleo {Megacephalon 
maleo\ first fully described by Dr. Wallace in his book about 
the Malay Archipelago. This bird inhabits the island of 
Celebes, and is the only Mound-Builder which is at all remark- 
able for its colour. Most of them are dull, plain-looking birds, 
but the Maleo has not only a glossy black and rosy- white body, 
but its bare neck is bright red, and on the back of its head it 
bears a peculiar ornamental knob, like a small helmet. The 
nesting-place described by Dr. Wallace was a large uninhabited 
bay between two islands, where a forest extends to the edge of 
a steep beach composed of loose black sand. All the rest of 
the beach is white, and the reason why this portion is black is 
that ages ago a great stream of lava from a neighbouring 
volcano here flowed down a valley to the sea, and it is by the 
breaking up of the lava that the black gravel has been formed. 

To this unattractive spot numbers of Maleos repair year by 
year to deposit their eggs, in August or September, when there 
is seldom any rain. They fly down to the beach from the 
interior of the island in pairs, often travelling ten or fifteen 
miles ; and when they arrive at the nesting-ground both birds 
begin to scratch a hole in the hot, black sand, just above high- 
water mark. The Maleo's toes are joined together by a strong 
web, forming a broad, powerful foot, and when the birds are 
engaged in digging the sand flies up in a perfect shower. In 
this way a hole three or four feet in depth is soon excavated, 
and at the bottom a single large ^gg is laid. After covering it 
over with about a foot of sand the birds return to the forest. 
In rather less than a fortnight they again go down to the beach 
in company and once more set to work at the same spot. 

55 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

Another egg is then laid, very near to the first. The hole is 
partly filled in every time an egg is deposited, so the birds have 
to renew their labour at each visit. It often happens that 
many birds lay in the same hole, a dozen eggs, or even more, 
being frequently found together. The natives regard the eggs 
as a great delicacy, and visit the beach every year from a 
distance of fifty miles around on purpose to obtain them. 
They are richer than Hens^ eggs, and as one of them is large 
enough to fill a fair-sized tea-cup it is sufficient, with a little 
rice or bread, for a very good meal. 

Why, it may be asked, do the Maleo-birds choose the 
unattractive-looking black ashes in preference to the clean, 
white sand which covers the rest of the beach of Wallace Bay ? 
The latter would seem to be far more suitable, for the ashes are 
rough and coarse, consisting of fragments of lava each of which 
is about the size of a bean. Perhaps there is some special 
advantage in the dark colour. Let us consider this. You 
know that if you wear a black jacket in very hot, sunny weather 
you feel much hotter than you do if you wear a white one ; 
that is because black absorbs heat, while white reflects it ; and 
here we seem to have the true reason why the birds choose the 
black gravel instead of the white sand, not only in Wallace 
Bay, but at other places on these shores where the same condi- 
tions exist. Everywhere, so far as we know, they show the 
same preference. 

This is a wonderful instinct ; but the Maleo-birds of the 
Bone Valley are even more sagacious. Here two cousins named 
Sarazin, both of them naturalists, came upon a gi'eat number of 
pits dug out quite close together in a bamboo thicket, and on a 
search being made several new-laid eggs were discovered. Now 
this valley is about seven hundred and fifty feet above the level 
of the sea, and the temperature is rather low, especially in the 
forest, so it seemed surprising that Maleo eggs left buried in 
the ground should ever produce chicks. Further on and at a 
still greater height — this time about one thousand five hundi'ed 

56 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

feet above the sea — more diggings were found. What was the 
explanation ? It was this : in the neighbourhood of the pits 
in each case there was a warm spring, the water of one of them 
being so hot that it caused J;he skin to smart and tingle when a 
hand was plunged in it, and these springs provided the neces- 
sary heat for the birds'* incubators. Wherever Maleo-birds 
were found in the interior of the Celebes, warm springs were 
sure to be discovered not far away. 

Wlien the eggs have been buried the mother pays no further 
attention to them, but leaves them to hatch in the hot sand. 
Fortunately they require no attention, for even if they did it is 
difficult to see how the parents could remain to watch over 
them. Hundreds of birds visit this place to lay their eggs, and 
as their food consists entirely of fallen fruits, in search of which 
they are obliged to wander far afield, and the eggs are laid at 
such long intervals (about eight eggs are laid during the season, 
and it takes the bird three months altogether to produce them), 
the supply of food would be insufficient, and the birds would 
all very soon die of hunger if they remained in the neighbour- 
hood of the beach. Besides this, owing to the continuous 
diggings the surface of the sand becomes not unlike that of 
a rough, confused sea, and is constantly changing in appearance, 
so that it is doubtful whether a bird would be able, after a 
short time, to discover the spot where she laid her first egg. 
And even supposing all the birds which bury their eggs in one 
hole were to stay beside it, they could not possibly know their 
own chicks when they made their way out of the ground. 

One of the most remarkable circumstances about these birds, 
and others with similar habits, is that the chicks should ever 
escape from the mound at all. Any ordinary chick — a young 
Turkey, for example — would be quite helpless if it found itself 
buried alive when it escaped from the shell ; but not so the 
young Maleo. We have already mentioned that the eggs are 
very large, and we find that the chicks produced from them are 
fine, vigorous youngsters from the moment they are born. 

S7 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

Somehow or other they work their way up through the sand and 
run off at once to the shelter of the forest. The young Mound- 
Builder, whatever the species, is one of the most precocious of 
bird children. 

The actual manner in which the chick makes its way to the 
surface has been observed in the case of the Brush-Turkey 
(Talegallus lathami), another of the Mound-birds. Mr. Barnard, 
of Coomooboolaroo, a Queensland squatter and the head of a 
family of naturalists, buried an egg and allowed it to incubate 
in a heap of manure. A few days later he went to inspect it, 
and on carefully removing the covering he found a little bird 
within a few inches of the surface, lying on its back and trying 
to work its way out by means of its feet. His sons also on 
several occasions discovered young Brush-Tm^keys in the same 
posture, when they were digging for eggs. This species is one 
of the largest of the Mound-Builders, being nearly the size of an 
ordinary Turkey-hen. Its plumage is sooty-brown in colour, 
but the skin of the neck is pinkish-red and the bird possesses a 
large, bright yellow wattle just above the breast. The incu- 
bators made by the Brush-Turkeys are on quite a different 
principle from those of the Maleos. 

Instead of merely digging holes and burying their eggs where 
they will be hatched by the heat of the sun, the Brush-Turkeys 
construct huge mounds of leaves and grass mixed with earth, 
and the warmth produced by the vegetable matter as it fer- 
ments and decays enables the eggs to develop. If you will 
make a hole in a heap of grass which has been piled up in warm 
weather while still wet — cuttings from a lawn-mower, for 
instance — and left to rot, you will be able to observe for your- 
self how much heat is produced by the process of decay. This 
species of Brush-Turkey spends several weeks in collecting the 
material for its mound, and by the time the eggs are laid it has 
built a pyramid which is often large enough to make many cart- 
loads. Of course one bird cannot do all this ; at least a pair of 
them join forces to make one of the smaller heaps, and the 

58 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

larger mounds may be the result of the united labours of several 
pairs. Besides this, the birds return to the same spot season 
after season, and add fresh material every year, so the heap goes 
on increasing in size. 

Gould, that famous old writer about Australian birds, says : 
"The materials composing these mounds are accumulated by 
the bird grasping a quantity in its foot and throwing it back- 
wards to one common centre, the surface of the ground for a 
considerable distance being so completely scratched over that 
scarcely a leaf or a blade of grass is left. The mound being com- 
pleted, and time allowed for a sufficient amount of heat to be 
engendered, the eggs are deposited in a circle at the distance 
of nine or twelve inches from each other, and buried more 
than an arm's depth, with the large end upwards ; they are 
covered up as they are laid, and allowed to remain until 
hatched. I have been credibly informed, both by natives 
and settlers living near their haunts, that it is not an unusual 
event to obtain half a bushel of eggs at one time from a single 
mound. . . . Some of the natives state that the females are 
constantly in the neighbourhood of the mound about the 
time the young are likely to be hatched, and frequently un- 
cover and cover them up again, apparently for the purpose 
of assisting those that may have appeared ; while others have 
informed me that the eggs are merely deposited, and the 
young allowed to force their way unassisted. 

"One point has been clearly ascertained, namely, that the 
young from the hour they are hatched are clothed with 
feathers, and have their wings sufficiently developed to enable 
them to fly on to the branches of trees, should they need to do 
so to escape from danger ; they are equally nimble on their 
legs ; in fact, as a moth emerges from its chrysalis, dries its 
wings, and flies away, so the youthful Talegallus, when it 
leaves the Qgg^ is sufficiently perfect to be able to act indepen- 
dently and procure its own food." 

These birds have on several occasions made their mounds at 
59 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

the 'Zoo,' and the eggs have been successfully hatched. It 
was there noticed that an opening was always preserved in the 
centre of the circle of eggs, probably to prevent the danger of 
a sudden increase of heat either from the action of the sun or 
from too rapid fermentation of the decaying vegetable matter 
in the mound. The male bird constantly attended to the 
incubator, and on hot days cooled the eggs by almost uncover- 
ing them two or three times between morning and evening. 

The young birds remained in the mound for at least twelve 
hours without making any effort to escape, but on the second 
day they came out and ran about the pen for some time. They 
went to bed again early in the afternoon, however, and were 
carefully covered up for the night by their father. On the 
third day they could fly well. It does not of course follow 
that the birds behave in the same way in their natural condition 
as they do in captivity, where they are imprisoned in a pen and 
so compelled to remain constantly beside their mound. 

At the ' Zoo** the male Brush-Turkey took a very active part in 
constructing the mound, and perhaps he always does so, though 
the evidence on this point is rather conflicting. If he does not, 
there is reason to suppose that he at least acts as foreman of the 
works. At the station of a squatter in Queensland there was a 
tame cock Talegallus which lived with the farmyard Hens. He 
was in the habit of driving his companions together into a little 
grove of trees near the house, and the owner of the station 
was convinced that he was trying to compel them to build a 
mound. The Hens, however, did not understand that kind of 
nest, and they seized every opportunity to escape from their 
taskmaster, but the Talegallus always chased them back again, 
until at last his insistence became so troublesome that he had 
to be shot. 

A remarkable feature of the Mound-Builders is the great 
size and strength of their feet. This is not so noticeable in the 
Maleo as in other species ; but then the Maleo does not make 
a true mound, but, as we have seen, merely digs a hole in 

60 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

which to bury each egg as it is laid. Yet even in this bird the 
claws, though short and straight, form a broad and powerful 
foot ; they are strongly webbed at the base, and this feature, 
combined with the length of the leg, helps to produce an ad- 
mirable instrument for scratching. The birds which make 
true mounds, however, must be capable of more than mere 
scmtching; in order to pile up these great structures they 
need a foot which can actually taiie hold of the material and 
fling it to a distance. So we find that the Brush-Turkeys have 
claws which are long and curved. The foot reaches its greatest 
development, however, in the Megapodes — a name which 
would at once lead you to expect a foot of more than common 
size. 

All the Mound-Builders belong to the family of Megapodes, 
but the true Megapodes — the Megapodii — form a little group, 
a genus, apart from the Brush-Turkeys {Talegalli) and the 
Maleo-bird {Megacephahn). They have the most strongly 
developed ' scratching ' organs to be met with in the whole of 
the bird world, and they know how to make good use of them. 
The birds themselves are about the size of small Hens, with very 
short tails, and though many of them have a crested head, 
their plumage is on the whole of a very dull and sober hue. 
Some of them construct immense mounds ; the Australian 
Megapode {Megapodius tumulus), for instance, piles up material 
until it produces a hillock which not uncommonly measures as 
much as sixty feet in circumference, and sometimes a great deal 
more — a tremendous achievement for a bird. It is not to be 
supposed that one bird, or pair of birds, accomplishes such a 
gigantic labour in a single season ; as in the case of the Brush- 
Turkeys, the Megapodes repair year by year to the same spot 
to deposit their eggs, and several pairs contribute to the build- 
ing of the larger mounds ; but even allowing for these circum- 
stances, we must still be astonished at their extraordinary 
dimensions. Perhaps we shall get a better idea of their size 
from a remark of Macgillivray's : he tells us that some very 

6i 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

ancient mounds have trees growing upon them, and he observed 
that in one instance the tree had a trunk which was a foot in 
diameter ! All this sounds like a story from Gulliver's travels in 
the country of the Brobdingnagians — all except the very modest 
size of the bird itself, which only makes the story more wonder- 
ful still. 

This Megapode is not at all particular about the nature of 
its building material, which varies according to the situation. 
The mounds are almost always near the edge of water. Many of 
them are found on the seashore and are composed of sand and 
shell heaped together in irregular masses, so that anybody who 
was not acquainted with their nature might suppose that they 
had been piled up by a heavy sea. 

In such mounds there is nothing to develop heat, and the 
hatching of the eggs depends entirely on the warmth which they 
obtain from the sun. Others are found in neighbouring 
thickets or about the banks of creeks, and contain, as we might 
expect in these situations, fragments of decaying wood mixed 
with vegetable mould, the whole forming a cone-shaped mass 
which rather reminds one of a tiny volcano, especially when a 
crater-like hole has been dug in the summit by the birds when 
they come to deposit their eggs — or by the natives who visit the 
spot to rob them. There is a picture of one of these ' nests "* in 
Tlie Romance of Animal Arts and Crafts which shows a 
native armed with a sharp stick in readiness to begin digging 
out a supply of eggs. In the Solomon Islands the eggs of 
Brenchley's Megapode (Jf. hrejichleyi) are very highly appreciated 
as an article of food. Mr. C. M. Woodford saw hundreds of 
these birds scratching out their holes in the warm sand when 
he landed at Savo, and they were so tame that they took very 
little notice of him. In this island, indeed, they become almost 
domesticated, and quietly go about their business of digging 
within a few yards of the native who is similarly engaged with 
the intention of getting possession of their eggs. They are so 
numerous here that thousands of birds congregrate at the same 

62 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

place and form great laying-yards which often extend over 
several acres. These are open, sandy spaces on which no shrubs 
or undergrowth can obtain a hold, chiefly because the ground is 
continually being dug over by the birds. I think we must 
regard these clearings as the largest of all the bird 'incu- 
bators.' 

The most scientifically constructed incubator, how^ever, is 
that made by the Ocellated Megapode {Lipoa ocellatd) of 
Australia, but as there is a full account of it in another volume 
of this series, and also a picture, we will here describe it quite 
briefly. The way this bird makes its incubator is by first 
scratching a hollow in the ground and then building in it a 
cup-like mass of leaves, dead grass, and similar material. The 
whole is buried under a heap of sand, and the decaying vege- 
table matter soon begins to warm up the incubator. Seven or 
eight eggs are then laid in the sand in a circle, just inside the 
rim of the cup — which we may, perhaps, call the heating 
apparatus of the incubator — a hole being dug by the birds for 
this purpose on each occasion when an egg is deposited, and 
then carefully filled up again with sand. It is curious to note 
that here again the eggs are not placed on their side like those 
of other birds, but in an upright position with the smaller end 
downwards. It would be interesting to know why this is so. 
We know that such eggs as those of a Plover are always placed 
in the nest with the pointed end turned towards the centre 
because in that position they fit more closely together, and 
occupy less space than they would do if arranged in any other 
way, and are therefore more effectively covered by the sitting 
bird; but nobody, so far as I am aware, has been able to 
explain the peculiar position of the Mound-birds' eggs. 

Mound-birds' eggs are often buried at a great depth. Those 
of the Australian Brush-Turkey are found more than an arm's 
length below the surface, and the Australian Megapodes' were 
taken by Gilbert from a depth of six feet in the mound. The 
Brush-Turkey, however, does not dig straight downwards, but 

63 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

in a sloping direction towards the edge of the hillock, so that 
although the eggs are so far from the top, where the hole is 
always begun when the bird visits its incubator in order to lay, 
they might really be not more than two or three feet from the 
surface. But even if the young bird were to take the shortest 
way out of the mound, it would still have a great deal of burrow- 
ing to do, and it is sm'prising that it should ever be able to 
escape at all without assistance. Escape it does, however, 
though there is reason to believe that it sometimes remains 
buried a long time after leaving the egg. Some of the little 
birds which have been dug out are supposed to have been quite 
three weeks old when they were found ; perhaps that is a mis- 
taken estimate, but there seems no doubt whatever that many 
spend several days, at least, underground. One would expect 
them to die of starvation under such conditions, but on inquiry 
we find that occasionally, at all events, there is a supply of food 
conveniently at hand which may serve their needs during their 
imprisonment. When Gilbert first examined the mounds of the 
Ocellated Megapode he noticed that they contained large num- 
bers of termites — the so-called 'white ants' — which had even 
made their little covered galleries upon the eggs themselves ; so 
that here there was plenty of tender food ready for the chick 
as soon as it was hatched. 

A young Megapode is not a naked, helpless being like many 
little birds when they are first hatched ; it is not, like an 
ordinary domestic chick, merely clothed in do\\Ti. It is a 
powerful youngster with strong limbs which are already cap- 
able of vigorous scratching ; it has wings with fully developed 
feathers and can fly, if not as well as its parents, at all events 
well enough to enable it to escape easily in a very short time 
from its enemies. Why then does it choose to remain so 
long underground, in darkness, instead of making its way as 
quickly as possible to the surface ? That is a question which 
has puzzled many naturalists, and one which we are still 
unable to answer. 

64 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

Before leaving the fascinating subject of birds' incubators, 
as we have called them, we may perhaps mention a very curious 
instance, described by Dr. Merriam in his report on the Alaska 
Expedition, of the way in \Ybich the most tremendous forces of 
Nature may be of assistance in such a delicate process as the 
hatching of an egg. We have seen that the birds' incubators 
are kept warm in various ways. In some cases it is by the 
burning rays of the fierce tropical sun shining upon the diy 
desert sand, in some it is by the warming of the surrounding 
earth by hot-water springs, and in some by the heat produced 
when masses of dead vegetation, scraped together by the birds, 
ferment and decay. But there is yet another source of heat — 
a mighty source which, fortunately for us, only occasionally 
forces itself upon our notice, and which then is too often more 
apparently connected with destruction than with the fostering 
of life : the eternal furnace beneath the earth's crust. A little 
more than a century ago there appeared in the Behring Sea, 
amid thunder, earthquake and steam, a volcanic island now 
known as the Island of Bogoolof. This island had long been a 
favourite resort of countless multitudes of sea-birds when, in 
the year 1883, a companion volcano was thrown up from the 
sea. 

The birds on the older island, the greater number of which 
were Murres, began to occupy the new land as soon as it was 
cool enough to afford a footing, and when Dr. Merriam first 
visited the island, eight years after its appearance above the 
waters, he found vast hordes in possession, standing by thou- 
sands on projecting points and ledges wherever the rocks were 
not too hot, and nesting there. No doubt the warmth of the 
rocks assisted the incubation of the eggs, but whether the birds 
took advantage of it to prolong their excursions on business 
and pleasure was unfortunately not ascertained. It seemed 
strange that the Murres should have chosen to make their 
homes in such a situation, for the sulphur fumes and hot steam 
were almost suffocating. The year after the volcano was 

E 65 



BIRDS' INCUBATORS 

formed, many birds were observed to be killed instantly if they 
chanced to fly into the cloud of steam and smoke which hung 
over it, and even when Dr. Merriam called at the island he 
found lying on the rocks many dead birds which had evidently 
perished from the same cause — the victims, as in the case of so 
many human pioneers, of their own enterprise. 



66 



CHAPTER IV 
FEEDING THE CHICKS 

Infant-food and why it is necessary — Finches — Change of diet and special 
preparation of food — 'Pigeon's milk' — Insect-eaters — Swallows and 
Swifts — A ball of flies— Reed- Warblers— Industry of parents— A working 
day of sixteen hours — Feeding the young in mid-air — Methods of giving 
food— An interesting experiment — Birds-of-Prey — Larders — Fish-eaters 
— Fish soup — Perverted instinct of domesticated birds. 

WE are aware that some young birds, such as Partridge 
chicks, are able to pick up their own food very soon 
after they leave the egg ; all that their parents have 
to do is to take them where food is to be found and, just 
at first, to place it in front of them and move it about in order 
to attract their attention : the rest they can do for themselves. 
Many little birds, however, are born quite helpless, and in the 
early days, or it may be weeks, of their existence are entirely 
dependent on their parents, without whom they would very 
soon die of hunger, just as surely as a young mammal would die 
if it were not suckled by its mother. 

We are aware that the food on which mammals live when 
they are grown up would not be good for them when they are 
quite young ; at that time they need something which does not 
require to be crushed and softened before it is swallowed and 
which is suited to the powers of little bodies not yet fully 
formed; and it is just the same with many young birds. 
We all know what a sharp, strong, and hard bill a Sparrow has 
when he is old enough to fly about and pick up a living in the 
street or farmyard, to eat the seeds we have just sown in 
our garden, or to rob the farmer of his corn. But the bill of a 

67 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

baby Sparrow which has just escaped from the egg is quite 
soft, and so is his stomach ; his parents, therefore, acting 
instinctively as if they knew that seeds and berries and 
hard bread-crumbs would be injurious, give him nothing but 
soft food, and for a while he lives on worms and grubs and 
other delicacies. Sometimes the parents themselves take a 
fancy to a change of diet, and many hard-billed, seed-eating 
birds such as the Chaffinch become insect-eaters while they have 
a young family to provide for. 

It is very interesting to watch the old birds when they visit 
the nest to feed their chicks, but it is often by no means 
an easy matter to do so. Frequently it is quite impossible, 
owing to the situation of the nest, to see at all what is going on 
there, and even in favourable circumstances it is often necessary 
to use a field-glass in order to get a good view. But if you are 
not discouraged by difficulties at first you will soon find that it 
is well worth while to take a little trouble. 

On returning to the nest, some birds appear to have brought 
nothing at all back with them, but if we watch them closely we 
shall see that they presently begin to produce, one after 
another, caterpillars which are carried hidden away at the back 
of their throat. The Bullfinch, which is well known as a cage- 
bird — though less so now than formerly, I am inclined to think 
— and with which many of us are acquainted as an inhabitant 
of copses and bushy commons, has this habit. 

Another way in which some of the seed-eating birds, such 
as the common Linnet, provide food adapted to the needs of 
their chicks, is by first softening the hard grain or seed in 
their own crops and thus producing what we may perhaps 
compare to a 'patent food for infants."* But a far more 
elaborate kind of infant-food is manufactured by those very 
dissimilar birds, Pigeons and Parrots. Different as they are 
in most respects, these birds resemble each other in so far as 
they are both strictly vegetarians, they both have particularly 
helpless babies, for whom they both produce this peculiar food. 

68 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

It is a whitish, half-solid, half-liquid material, rather like 
curdled milk in appearance, and on that account in the case of 
the Pigeon it has been called 'Pigeon's milk.' During in- 
cubation the lining of the, bird's crop becomes thickened, and 
it is here that the 'milk' is produced in flaky curds. Just 
at first the young Pigeon is given no other kind of nourish- 
ment, but when it is a few days old a little partially digested 
food is mixed with the 'milk.' Then, as the young birds 
become bigger and stronger, the proportion of ordinary food 
is increased, so that by the time they are about a week or nine 
days old they are weaned from the ' milk ' and are being fed 
entirely on ordinary food, which is still, however, softened for 
them by their parents. It is a curious fact that in the early 
days the old birds are able to force the ' milk ' from the crop 
without any mixture of their own food, although later on both 
are mingled together. 

The way in which a Pigeon gives food to its young is well 
known. It takes the bill of the squab (as a baby Pigeon is 
called) in its own and pumps up the soft food with a curious 
action familiar to all who have kept these birds as pets. The 
beak of a young Pigeon is well adapted for this kind of feed- 
ing, for it is not only soft and fleshy, but much thicker and 
larger in proportion to the size of the body than in after life. 
At first, indeed, it looks immense, but gradually, as the time 
approaches for the young bird to take to solid food and provide 
for itself, it shrinks and hardens. 

It is interesting to note that both Parrots and Pigeons often 
show their affection for their mate by feeding her in the same 
manner. Parrots, indeed, as well as their near relations the 
Macaws and Cockatoos, sometimes go further, and produce 
food from their crop merely because they are very fond of the 
person who feeds them — an attention which is not always 
appreciated ! 

The Blue-bellied Parrakeet (Psittacus cyanogaster), as well 
as some others of the family, constantly feeds his mate while 

69 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

she is brooding, in the same way as the young. A pair of 
these birds observed by Levaillant continued for half a year to 
feed their two young ones, though the latter had left the nest 
when three weeks old — which, for Parrots, is very early. He 
states that it was a very interesting and beautiful sight to 
watch them, for the young would frequently be seated on a 
branch on the further side of their mother, and the male 
bird, being unable to reach quite so far, presented the food 
first to his partner, who immediately passed it on to the 
young. 

Let us now take leave of the vegetarians amongst birds and 
turn to those whose ordinary diet consists of insects. Of these, 
the most familiar are probably Swallows and Swifts — not, we 
may remark in passing, coupled together here because they are 
closely related to one another, as they are so commonly and 
erroneously supposed to be, but merely on account of the 
similarity of their habits. Who has not watched these grace- 
ful birds on a summer evening skimming in long, beautiful 
curves through the air, sometimes high above our heads, some- 
times, in the case of Swallows, quite close to the ground, in 
rapid, untiring flight ? You may even have noticed the sharp 
little sound made by the snapping of their bills as, without the 
slightest interruption of their progress or slackening of speed, 
they capture a gnat or other minute insect — ^just what it is 
that they catch we can rarely tell, for though it is distinct;^ 
enough to the birds' keen sight, to us it is invisible. 

We will in imagination accompany one of these birds to the 
nest where a brood of hungry youngsters is awaiting its return. 
Suppose it is the Swift that we visit. That is much easier in 
imagination than in reality, for Swifts often make their nest 
in high towers, though occasionally they are less aspiring and 
are content to establish a home under a roof at no great height 
from the ground, as they did at my old school. The brood is a 
small one (two eggs being the usual number, though occasion- 
ally three are laid), but the old bird has been absent from the 

70 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

nest quite a long time, perhaps for a whole hour, so the chicks 
are very hungry ; what has he brought them for supper ? As 
he creeps in at the narrow opening under the eaves it is not 
apparent that he has brought anything at all, but there is a 
curious swelling under his chin which certainly looks as though 
he may perhaps have something hidden in his mouth. And so 
he has, for presently he opens his widely gaping bill and pro- 
duces a romid black object about the size of a boy's marble. 
What can it be ? 

'I recollect, when I was a boy, catching a Swift which flew 
one evening through the open window of the schoolroom and 
was unable to find its way out again — the window having been 
promptly closed as soon as it appeared. And I remember how 
puzzled I was by the pouch-like swelling under its bill, until in 
its struggles the bird ejected from its mouth a huge pellet such 
as I have described, which, to my astonishment, I found to be 
composed of scores of small black flies all glued together in a 
solid mass. On the same occasion, before liberating the captive, 
I learnt for the first time that Swifts in their turn are perse- 
cuted by flies — horrible, wingless flies which infest their bodies, 
comfortably hidden away under the feathers, amongst which 
they glide with surprising rapidity if disturbed; and I still 
vividly recall my feeling of disgust on making this discovery and 
my pity for the victim of such loathsome parasites, which 
appeared of monstrous size to live on so small a bird. This, 
however, is a digression, and we must return to the subject of 
feeding the young. 

Swifts, then, take to the nest a large number of flies at once, 
all stuck together in the form of a pellet or ball which is 
carried under the tongue. They therefore feed their chicks at 
comparatively long intervals, except just after they are hatched. 
Swallows and Martins, on the other hand, are continually feed- 
ing their families (which are more numerous than those of the 
Swifts) and may be seen returning to the nest every two or 
three minutes. In this they resemble the greater number of 

71 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

insectivorous birds, whose industry in supplying the needs of 
their young is almost incredible. 

On the opposite page you will see a charming illustration of 
a pair of Reed- Warblers clinging to the reeds over their nest and 
looking down upon their family which they have just been feed- 
ing. It is from a photograph of the living birds, taken in a reed- 
bed beside an old fish-pond a few miles from Cambridge. Photo- 
graphing birds in their o^vn haunts is work which requires much 
time, and patience too, but it has the advantage of affording 
ample opportunities of observing their habits. Mr. Farren, 
who took this particular photograph, was watching the Reed- 
Warblers for an hour and three-quarters, and during that period 
they visited the nest at least thirty-six times, bringing with 
them caddis-flies, little Gambridge-blue di'agon-flies, and other 
insects. That works out at about twenty visits in an hour ; 
and on almost every occasion the birds brought food with them. 
The feeding is continued throughout the day, from sunrise to 
dusk — a summer-day-long feast of hundreds of courses ! Imagine 
the energy and industry of the little birds which provide such 
a meal. 

We do not merely suppose that the birds never rest from 
their labour of love all through the day, for patient naturalists 
have often kept a nest under observation from early morning 
until the time of roosting, and have made a note of every occa- 
sion when the parents brought food. In this way Professor 
Weed of Durham, New Hampshire, found that a pair of Chip- 
ping-Sparrows — American birds much like our Sparrows in 
general appearance, but considerably smaller, and familiarly 
known as ' Chippy s' — between five minutes to four in the 
morning and half-past seven at night made almost two hundred 
visits to the nest, and during this busy day they brought food 
— soft-bodied caterpillars, crickets, crane-flies, and other insects 
— on nearly every occasion, though sometimes they returned 
with what appeared to be grit for the grinding of the food. 
There were no long intervals when the birds were not at work ; 

72 




Devoted Parents : Reed-Warblers at Home 

Reed-Warblers build their nest over the water, weaving the walls securely round the 
supporting reed-stems. When the young are hatched the birds spend the whole of the 
long summer day in feeding them, returning every two or three minutes with their bills full 
of insects. 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

the longest was twenty-seven minutes, and in the middle of the 
day as many as twenty-one visits were made in the hour. 

But to return a moment to our Reed- Warblers. Mr. Farren 
writes : " It was very interesting to watch the olive-plumaged 
little birds working among the reed-stems ; flitting from reed to 
reed, they would disappear through the jungle behind the nest, 
returning in two or three minutes with their bills full of insects 
and, clinging sideways on the upright reeds above the nest, 
reach do^Mi and deliver to the young the food they had brought. 
While attending to the nest each parent had its favourite perch ; 
the female, which ^vas the more industrious of the two, always 
settled on the reeds on the left of the nest, while the male kept 
to the right. The male also perched lower down than did 
the female ; in fact, at times the latter bird clung to the reed 
so high above the nest that she could only reach the open 
mouths of the young ones by hanging in a position which may 
very well be described as 'upside down.'" She could apparently 
swing herself into almost any attitude without changing the 
position of her feet. 

The moment when a bird has just given food to the young is 
with nearly all small kinds the surest time to get a good photo- 
graph, because it then usually remains for a second or two 
quite still, watching the chicks. 

With regard to the Swallow, there is a remarkable circum- 
stance in connection with the manner in which it gives food to 
its young which we have so far omitted to mention. When the 
fledglings are old enough to leave the nest they are fed for a 
day or so on the chimney-top, after which they are taken a 
little further afield, often to a dead branch of a tree, where 
they sit in a row and are waited on by their parents. Their 
education is progressing, but they are still unable to capture 
their own food, although by this time they will have learnt to 
fly, and it is at this stage in their upbringing that we may see 
the pretty act so well described by Gilbert White — the young 
being fed by their parents while on the wing. "They play 

12> 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

about near the place where the dams are hawking for flies ; and 
when a mouthful is collected, at a certain signal given, the dam 
and the nestling advance, rising towards each other, and meet- 
ing at an angle ; the young one all the while uttering such a 
little quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a person 
must have paid very little regard to the wonders of nature that 
has not often remarked this feat." 

Martins also feed their young flying, but not so commonly as 
Swallows ; and the action is performed so swiftly thut it usually 
escapes the notice of any one who is not a very quick observer. 

A few years ago, when I was in Tangier, I was so fortunate 
as to have an opportunity of observing a pair of Wrynecks 
which were bringing up a young family in a hole in a tree, and 
frequently saw them busily engaged at an ants' nest taking in 
supplies for the family. The tip of the bird's tongue is very 
horny, and it uses this as an implement to stir up the ants and 
induce them to sally forth to defend their home. As they 
appear the bird gathers them wholesale into its mouth, where 
they are stuck together into a ball by means of the copious 
viscid saliva, exactly as in the case of the Swift, and the nutri- 
tious cake is then conveyed to the nest and dropped, I suppose, 
into the gaping mouths of the young Wrynecks. 

These birds, which are slightly larger than a Sparrow, nest in 
some parts of England, where they arrive a few days before the 
Cuckoo and on that account are occasionally known as 'the 
Cuckoo's mate.' But as the hollow trees in our orchards, 
where they love to make their home, become fewer, the birds 
become rarer year by year, and they are now seen far less 
frequently than was the case fifty years ago. They are called 
Wryneck, or in some places ' Snake-bird,' because they have a 
wonderful way of twisting and writhing their head and neck, 
which is especially noticeable when one of the birds is caught 
and held by the feet. It is an easy matter to capture them 
while in the nesting-hole, and they would no doubt be molested 
more frequently than is actually the case but for the threaten- 

74 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

ing hiss with which they greet an intruder. Yet another snake- 
Hke characteristic of these curious birds is the rapidity with 
which the tongue is darted out when they are collecting insects. 

Amongst Wrynecks bothjDarents take a share in feeding the 
chicks, but with many species, such as the Skylark, the hen- 
bird alone performs this duty. 

When young Skylarks are almost ready to leave the nest 
their mother feeds them about four times in every hour. Her 
return is heralded by a gentle twitter as she hovers above them 
for a few moments, " like a toy-bird suspended on the end of a 
bit of elastic," as Mr. Kearton happily describes her attitude at 
this time. The youngsters answer the call by shooting up 
their heads and opening wide their yellow mouths, whereupon 
the mother alights and gives one of them the worm she holds 
in her bill, after which, like a conjurer, she produces from 
somewhere at the back of her throat more worms and feeds the 
little ones in turn. The father's duty appears to consist merely 
in providing incidental music during and between the courses. 

It is easy to observe the way in which a brood of callow 
nestlings respond to their parents' invitation to be fed, by 
paying a visit to a nest of young Thrushes, Hedge-Sparrows, or 
other common species, and imitating the sound made by the 
old birds. It need not be a particularly good imitation ; the 
young birds are not fastidious, and are pretty sure to answer 
promptly by stretching their necks and gaping widely in antici- 
pation of a meal. In many cases it is possible to get the same 
result by gently tapping the side of the nest or the twig on 
which it is supported, producing a swaying or vibration such as 
would be caused by a bird alighting. This can be repeated 
often, the chicks instinctively responding with a regularity 
which is ludicrously suggestive of the working of a mechanical 
toy when the spring is pressed. If, however, one of the old 
birds is anywhere about, uttering the alarm note, you will 
probably whistle or chirp or tap in vain, for the youngsters 
will cower down in the nest and remain still until you go away 

75 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

and they are assured by their anxious parent that the danger is 
past. 

Most of the insect-eaters either drop the food into the 
mouths of their young or place it well back in their throats. 
The Nightjar, however, whose diet consists chiefly of moths 
and cockchafers, feeds its callow nestlings from the crop after 
the manner of Pigeons, but with this difference, that whereas the 
Pigeon takes the bill of the squab within its own, the Nightjar 
adopts the opposite plan and places its own bill in that of its 
young. In both cases there is the same jerking, up-and-down 
movement as the food is transferred from one to the other. 

The Birds-of-Prey, on account of the nature of their food, 
feed their chicks less frequently than the birds we have hitherto 
mentioned. They bring in their supplies in bulk, consequently 
the young have substantial meals at longer intervals rather 
than a series of small courses spread over the whole day. 
Many of them carefully prepare the game before giving it to 
the young birds to eat. In Montana, for example, it has been 
noticed that the Golden Eagle always decapitates any small 
animals which it brings to the brood, but in the case of 
feathered prey, in which the skull is not so hard and unmanage- 
able, the head is left on. Hares are plucked — a method of 
preparing this kind of game for the table which we usually 
only associate with the ancient story of the inexperienced cook. 
An Eagle's larder is kept well filled, for portions of dead 
animals are nearly always to be seen around the margins of the 
eyrie, and the young grow up literally ' in the midst of plenty.' 

Reference to the Eagle's larder brings to mind the curious 
larder of the Red-backed Shrike {Lanius coUurio), one of the 
summer visitors to England and the south of Scotland, better 
known by its popular name of 'Butcher-bird.' Its nest is 
usually placed high in a thorn bush, and on the surrounding 
thorns the bird impales the prey which it captures. Though 
considerably smaller than a Thrush it is very bold, and will 
even attack and kill other small birds, though the greater part 

76 




The Butcher-Bird's Larder 

The Butcher-bird impales its prey on thorns, and the remains of many victims may 
often be seen on a favourie thorn-bush. The "larder" represented in the picture 
contains a beetle, a lizard, a young Blackbird, a Blue litmouse, and a Hedge- 
Sparrow. 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

of its food consists of large insects which it catches, after the 
manner of a Flycatcher, by making quick clashes from the twig 
where it sits perched and watchful. It kills even when its 
appetite for food is satisfied,^and hangs up its victims for future 
consumption, dragging them on to the sharp thorns with its 
feet and strong bill, which is hooked and notched like that of 
a Bird-of-Prey. A strange variety of game is sometimes col- 
lected in the ' larder ' ; in one instance the bird had hung up 
a lizard, a dor-beetle, a Hedge-Sparrow, a young Blackbird, 
and a Blue Tit. Small frogs, mice, and humble-bees are 
amongst the other animals occasionally found there. 

That charming little bird, the Dabchick, is remarkably care- 
ful about its children's diet. During the first fortnight of 
their life this consists mainly of fresh- water shrimps and such- 
like delicacies. The mother exercises careful supervision over 
the meals ; if a fragment of food appears to be too solid for the 
little ones, she bites and crushes it in her bill to make it softer 
before giving it to them ; if, having given it to them, it seems 
after all rather too large for them to manage, she promptly 
takes it away again. The Eider-Duck also carefully prepares 
the nursery dinner. Taking her brood of ducklings to a spot 
where edible mussels cover the rocks at low-water mark, she 
gathers as many as the family meal requires and, choosing the 
smallest, breaks the shells and lays the contents before her 
children. 

Of the fish-eaters by far the greater number bring home 
the food in their gullet, though the noblest of them all, the 
Sea-Eagle, always carries its prey in its claws, and often brings 
to its young fish which are still alive. In Hungary, Prince 
Rudolph saw a Sea-Eagle flying home with a fish in each claw : 
on arriving at the nest it threw one of them to its young, and 
the other it took to a branch for its own supper. 

Herons, Gannets, Cormorants, Petrels, Pelicans, and a host 
of other species, all carry the fish in their gullet, and allow the 
young to help themselves. Morning and evening the Heron 

n 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

flies home heavily from its fishing with laden crop, alights at 
the top of the tree, flaps its wings to recover its balance, and 
descends to the nest. The young, one after another, then put 
their beaks into their parent's and take the food — consisting 
not only of fish, but of frogs, small reptiles, shell- fish, and even 
young water-fowl — to an accompaniment of hoarse squeaks. 
The Brown Pelicans also feed their brood morning and evening. 
In the case of these birds, as in the Cormorants and others, the 
head and neck of the young are thrust far down into the 
parent's gullet in a way that is unpleasantly suggestive of 
possible cannibalism on the part of the old bird 1 It looks a 
most uncomfortable attitude for both parties, but they appear 
to derive much satisfaction from the operation. 

In these and many other instances the young are fed at first 
on food which has already been partially digested, and are only 
gradually weaned to a more solid diet of fresh fish. The 
Gannet in its earliest days is nourished on a kind of fish soup 
prepared in its parent's gullet and stomach, and introduced a 
little at a time into the young bird's throat. The Petrels? 
which have such an unpleasant habit of bombarding any one 
who approaches them too closely when they are on the nest 
with a jet of evil-smelling oil, the odour of which clings to 
clothing for days afterwards, feed their young on the same 
unattractive fluid. 

Even young birds have been known to submit to having their 
crops emptied by another nestling. Audubon has a story, of 
two young Darters or Snake-birds— the species whose fishing is 
described in another chapter — which were kept in a cage, and 
relates that the smaller of the two when hungry worried his 
brother so persistently that at last the latter allowed him to 
put his head right down his throat and steal the fish which he 
had previously swallowed. 

Chicks that grow quickly have prodigious appetites. The 
experience of a member of the Discovery Expedition, who 
attempted to bring home two baby Emperor Penguins from the 

78 



FEEDING THE CHICKS 

Antarctic, is an amusing illustration of this. The little birds 
were very exacting, and made a great hullabaloo when they 
considered that meal-times had arrived. They were fed at first 
on crustaceans and afterwards on seal-meat, both of which had 
to be chewed up for them by their nurse. 

This was no light occupation, for Captain Scott says that 
from the beginning they had to be regarded as small tanks, and 
that when they grew bigger they seemed to be bottomless 
caverns into which any quantity of food could be dropped with- 
out making much appreciable difference. After a while they 
began to disapprove of the long interval between supper and 
breakfast, and " used to go off like alarm clocks " in the middle 
of the night. Their nurse had then to get out of his warm 
bed — we may mention that he had from the first handed over 
his sleeping-jacket to his charges to protect them from the cold 
— and give them a meal : which meant that he had to chew 
seal-meat for them until they were satisfied, when their little 
heads would sink upon their distended bodies and they would 
sleep again until breakfast-time. 

In a former chapter I mentioned that Ostrich eggs are often 
found scattered about the ground in the neighbourhood of the 
nest. It is said that when the young are hatched these scat- 
tered eggs are made use of by the parent birds as a sort of 
infant-food for their chicks ; and that may well be so, for the 
shells are so thick that the contents keep perfectly fresh for 
several weeks. 

Such, then, is the devotion of birds in appeasing the hunger 
of their little ones. It is only when they have been demoralised 
by domestication that they occasionally lapse into selfish con- 
duct and allow their own greed to get the better of parental 
affection. For example, some years ago a Duck on the Long 
Water in Kensington Gardens used to seize her ducklings by 
the neck and hold them under the water until she was herself 
obliged to come to the surface to breathe, if they ventured to 
accept the crumbs thrown to them by a bystander. 

79 



CHAPTER V 
DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

Change of character in breeding season — Courage and endurance — Braving 
cold, water, fire, famine, etc.— Intimidation— Strategy : the wiles of a 
Woodchuck — Attitude of an angry bird — Animals attacked by nesting 
birds : cats, dogs, pigs — Birds-of-Prey— Courage of Owls— The redoubt- 
able King-bird — 'Bonxies' and bonneting — An unpleasant habit— One 
of Nature's comedians. 

AT the season of the year when they are chiefly occupied 
L\ with family cares, birds not only put on braver attire, 
but change their character in harmony with the altera- 
tion in their plumage. The difference in the plumage, how- 
ever, may in some cases be so slight as to pass almost 
unnoticed ; but the contrast between the behaviour of a bird 
which has a home to defend and the same bird at other times is 
usually very remarkable indeed. However timid and spiritless 
it may have been, however ready to take to flight on the 
slightest alarm, it becomes pugnacious, aggressive, and often 
almost reckless in its courage. The Hen which, a few weeks 
before, ran fluttering and clucking across the farmyard pursued 
by a puppy, will not only stand her ground when she has a 
helpless brood to defend, but will fly in the face of any dog 
that dares to come near her precious charge. In many species 
it is the male bird who shows most devotion to the little ones^ 
and he may be no less determined in defence of his mate when 
she is sitting on the nest^ — or perhaps it is the nest he is think- 
ing of rather than his partner ; in any case, the result is the 
same. 

The way in which birds protect their nurseries or little ones 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

varies in different species ; threats, force, and strategy all play 
their part, and may all be adopted by the same bird at different 
times, though usually we find that each species has its own par- 
ticular method or combination of methods from the practice of 
which it rarely departs. 

Devotion to its eggs, mate, or young is sometimes so over- 
whelming that a bird becomes entirely oblivious to its own 
safety. That famous naturalist, Thomas Edward — whose 
books you should read if you have not already done so — 
relates how, when crossing the Clasmauch on his way to 
Huntly after a heavy snowstorm which had compelled the 
Plovers and Wild Ducks to abandon their nests, he came upon 
one of the latter birds skulking, as he thought, beside a tuft of 
rushes. On approaching, however, he saw that she was dead, 
and there, beneath her lifeless body, was a nest with eleven 
eggs, each of which contained a young bird. It was evident 
that the poor Duck had died, half suffocated and half frozen, 
in the effort to protect her nest from the heavy fall of snow. 
That is an instance of passive endurance carried to the utmost 
limit; for the sake of their young or mate, however, birds 
exhibit active daring in no less a degree. We will take one or 
two homely instances of this. 

Everybody knows that a Hen is a most devoted mother, 
and we shall have something more to say on this subject 
presently. In the farmyard her devotion results occasionally 
in some very curious situations, because not infrequently she is 
given a sitting of Duck's eggs to brood over, and when they 
are hatched the habits of her strange family are a terrible 
puzzle to her, and the source of much anxiety. This is 
especially the case when the whole brood, in spite of all her 
protests and her excited clucking, take to the water and swim 
beyond her reach, leaving her in a state of comical alarm on the 
edge of the pond. A case is recorded, however, of a Hen whose 
anxiety so far overcame her fear that she actually leapt into 
the pond in pursuit of her rebellious foster-children, and 
F 8i 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

managed to swim to the other side — a distance of twenty 
feet. 

Few birds are more cautious or more knowing than old Rooks 
and Crows, and to approach them openly within gunshot, if you 
are carrying a gun, is almost impossible — so difficult, indeed, 
that there is a tradition to the effect that they can smell 
powder ! They have at all events learnt to distinguish a gun 
from a stick, for while they regard the latter with indifference, 
they take care to keep just beyond range of firearms. Yet even 
the wily Carrion-Crow falls a victim to parental affection. 
Mr. Cornish tells us that in the nesting - season he used to 
organise evening ' drives ' of Crows in order to try to reduce 
their numbers before their destructive tendencies were further 
stimulated by the possession of ravenous families. On such an 
occasion, as soon as a shot was fired, one of the old birds came 
hurrying home to the nest to see what was happening, and 
immediately fell to the guns. A moment afterwards the other 
bird was seen, in the dim twilight, to descend straight on to the 
eggs, with the same fatal result. 

This recalls the devotion of the Raven — made famous by 
Gilbert White's description — which had its nest in LoseFs 
wood, at Selborne. We will give the story in his own words: 
" In the centre of this grove there stood an oak, which, though 
shapely and tall on the whole, bulged out into a large excrescence 
about the middle of the stem. On this a pair of ravens had 
fixed their residence for such a series of years, that the oak was 
distinguished by the title of the Raven-tree. Many were the 
attempts of the neighbouring youths to get at this eyry : the 
difficulty whetted their inclinations, and each was ambitious of 
surmounting the arduous task. But when they arrived at the 
swelling, it jutted out so in their way, and was so far beyond 
their grasp, that the most daring lads were awed, and acknow- 
ledged the undertaking to be too hazardous. 

" So the ravens built on, nest upon nest, in perfect security, 
till the fatal day arrived in which the wood was to be levelled. 

82 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

It was in the month of February, when those birds usually sit. 
The saw was applied to the butt, the wedges were inserted into 
the opening, the woods echoed to the heavy blows of the beetle 
or mallet, the tree nodded tp its fall ; but still the dam sat on. 
At last, when it gave way, the bird was flung from her nest ; 
and, though her parental affection deserved a better fate, was 
whipped down by the twigs, which brought her dead to the 
ground." 

Amongst wild birds it is well known that the larger kinds 
exhibit most shyness at the approach of man ; contrary to what 
one unacquainted with their habits might expect, the smaller 
the bird, the greater its fearlessness. If we bear this in mind 
it is not very surprising to find that some of the smaller species 
will endure a considerable amount of close observation when on 
the nest without taking to flight : we might easily give numer- 
ous examples, but one will suffice. Many years ago, a nest 
which had been built by a pair of Martins under the eaves of a 
house at Sutton was partially destroyed, as such nests often are, 
by a violent thunderstorm, and two little, unfledged birds fell 
to the ground. The owner of the house saw that they were 
apparently uninjured and considered what could be done to 
repair the damage. A ladder was brought to the spot and a 
piece of board was nailed up under the nest, which was then 
mended very carefully with clay. A little cotton -wool was 
put in to make good the damaged lining, and the young birds 
were replaced in the nest. Now all these operations necessarily 
caused a great deal of disturbance, yet during the whole time 
the parent bird never left the uninjured portion of the nest, but 
remained sitting there quietly until the work was finished, when, 
as if overcome by thankfulness for the kindness she had received, 
she flew around chirping cheerfully for several minutes.^ 

While birds which have discovered the advantages that 

houses and other buildings afford them as a nesting-site enjoy 

many benefits from their association with man, they have also 

^ Sterland's Birds of Sherwood Forest. 

83 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

to encounter the dangers of civilisation — dangers to which they 
are not exposed, or at all events but rarely, away from human 
habitations. One of these is the danger of fire, from which, for 
helpless nestlings, there is no hope of escape. The conduct of 
the parent birds in such circumstances amounts in many re- 
corded instances to absolute self-sacrifice. We know that in 
Germany and elsewhere the bird which has most conspicuously 
attached itself to human dwellings is the White Stork, and 
a box or an old cart-wheel is frequently placed for its accom- 
modation on roof or chimney by the householder. The bird is 
regarded as the type of a devoted parent ; and so indeed it is, 
as the following instance goes to prove. At Neuendorf, in 
Prussia, a barn on which a pair of Storks had for years brought 
up a family was struck by lightning. The nest, a great heap of 
sticks big enough to make a good bonfire, at once burst into 
flames, but instead of flying to a place of safety, as she might 
have done, the mother Stork brooded over her helpless, scream- 
ing nestlings as if to protect them, and she and they together 
died amidst the flames. If you have read A Tramp Abroad by 
Mark Twain you may remember that he quotes in the Appen- 
dix an account of a similar incident which was related in a 
Mannheim journal. 

Turning again to the smaller birds, American Chimney 
Swifts (Chcetura pelagica) have on more than one occasion been 
seen to enter chimneys, where their nests were situated, when the 
house was on fire and the roof surrounded by flames. These 
birds have also been known to show their attachment to their 
young in a way which is somewhat unusual amongst birds which 
migrate, for it has often been remarked that great numbers of 
the young of such birds perish every year because the belated 
broods are not ready to leave the nest when the time comes for 
their parents to join the rest of their kind in their long flight 
to winter quarters, and as the migratory is usually even more 
powerful than the parental instinct, the young are left behind 
to starve. 

84 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

Some years ago, however, a writer in Forest and Stream 
recorded how, a month after the Swifts had departed, he heard 
the familiar twitter of these birds in his chimney, and on taking 
down the fire board, found a young Swift attached by a horse- 
hair to a fallen nest. The mother bird entered the chimney 
and waited quietly while the thread was cut and the prisoner 
set at liberty. In about an hour the young one got the use of 
its legs and very quickly learnt to fly, so that at length the two 
birds were able to start in company on their lonely journey to 
a warmer climate. The parent had in this instance chosen to 
remain behind with her young one when all the rest of her 
companions were leaving the country, and had it not been for 
the timely assistance which they received both birds would 
no doubt have died of hunger, for insect food was already 
scarce. 

We will now consider some of the means by which birds 
attempt to defend their young from hostile intruders. In the 
first place, then, many kinds try to ward off attack by threats, 
that is to say, by making themselves look as dangerous as they 
can, and by uttering strange sounds which no doubt often result 
in frightening away the enemy. " Nightingales,^' says Gilbert 
White, " when their young first come abroad, and are helpless, 
make a plaintive and a jarring noise : and also a snapping or 
cracking, pursuing people along the hedges as they walk : 
these last sounds seem intended for menace and defiance.""* A 
method which is much practised by birds which make their 
nests in holes in trees is to hiss like a snake — an effective 
procedure which has often prevented a nest from being 
plundered, for who would willingly put his hand into a dark 
hole which apparently is the home of a brood of young snakes ? 
The Wryneck and the Nuthatch both adopt this plan. 

The latter bird often nests in the deserted hole of a Wood- 
pecker, taking care to plaster up the entrance until there is 
no room for the much larger Woodpecker to enter the cavity. 
If it be disturbed when occupying this stronghold, it fights 

85 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

most vigorously, striking with wings and bill, and hissing at the 
same time in a very terrible manner. 

While discussing birds which nest in holes in trees, and the 
way in which they behave when they are surprised while on the 
nest, it may not be out of place to relate a little episode in the 
life of a family of California Screech- Owls {Scops asio bendirei) 
whose abode was a hole which had been made by Woodpeckers 
in a Cottonwood tree. The nest was discovered by Mr. Gault, 
who found, on inserting his hand, that it was occupied by the 
parent bird and four nestlings about ten days old. As the 
mother bird was seized and forcibly removed from her home, she 
grasped one of the young family in her talons, and this in its 
turn took hold of another, and so on, with the result that in 
their efforts to resist eviction, they formed a continuous living 
chain of Owls which presented a very ludicrous sight as it came 
dangling out of the hole. 

The behaviour of Woodpeckers themselves is by no means 
devoid of interest. There is a species called the Pileated 
Woodpecker {Picus pileatus\ but more popularly known, in 
common with the Red-bellied Woodpecker, as the 'Wood- 
chuck,' which is found over almost the whole of North 
America. This splendid bird, which is unfortunately now 
becoming rare, is a very powerful and artistic workman, and it 
is said that when it is cutting a hole in a tree-trunk for the 
purpose of making its nest, it often removes the traces of its 
presence by carrying away the chips and scattering them at a 
distance. Those who have read The Romance of Animal Arts 
and Crafts will remember that some of the carpenter-ants take 
similar precautions against discovery. According to Dr. Ralph, 
the Woodchuck can, on occasion, act in a still more remarkable 
manner with the object of protecting its home. One spring, in 
Florida, Dr. Ralph found a nest excavated in a dead cypress 
tree, and rapped on the trunk to ascertain whether the bird was 
at home. The Woodchuck immediately put his head out of 
the hole and dropped some chips, whereupon the doctor con- 

86 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

eluded that the carpentry was still going on and that the nest 
was unfinished. As the same thing occurred on several subse- 
quent visits he decided to examine the nest in any case, and on 
doing so he was surprised to find that it contained a brood of 
young birds, very nearly full grown ! The chips, then, had 
apparently been thrown out by the old bird with the object of 
deceiving him — of hoodwinking the intruder, that is to say, con- 
cerning the advanced state of family life. 

In America, where Cuckoos take a more serious view of thei 
responsibility than does the light-hearted vagabond with which we 
are familiar in England, the shyest amongst them become bold 
when their nest and eggs are in danger. The Yellow-billed 
Cuckoo, for instance, when on the nest will often raise its feathers 
until they stand out at right angles to its body, " like quills upon 
the fretful porcupine,"'' not from fear — for a bird that is alarmed 
depresses its feathers close to the body and makes itself as small as 
possible — but from anger. This Cuckoo is at ordinary times a 
timid bird, but it has been known to fly fiercely at an intruder 
upon the privacy of its home. In such circumstances, and 
especially if there are young ones in danger, birds will often 
boldly attack their most inveterate enemies. A Blackbird has 
been seen to attack a cat which had caught one of its fledglings, 
and by pecking vigorously and beating her wings in the cat's 
face, to compel her to release her prey. The Game-birds 
are as plucky as any in this respect, and most sportsmen 
are aware that a Partridge will often ' stand up to,' and 
even drive off", a terrier. In America the Ruffed Grouse is 
equally plucky. Captain Bendire saw a hen of this species 
attack an Indian dog and absolutely make him turn tail and 
slink away, by sheer force of character and reckless fierceness. 
Every feather on her body stood on end, and she hissed like an 
angry cat, pecking the dog's head and legs and moving to the 
attack with such agility that he was glad to make an ignomini- 
ous escape from her fury. 

Just as much determination is shown by the male bird in de- 
87 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

fence of his mate when sitting. Gilbert White recorded in his 
diary, March 21st, 1783, " My Goose sits, while the Gander with 
vast assiduity keeps guard, and takes the fiercest sow by the ear, 
and leads her away crying."" So it is, too, with wild Geese. The 
male Grey-Lag faithfully watches beside the Goose and guards 
her all the time she is sitting, and the male Canada Goose will 
resolutely face the greatest peril while he urges his wife to fly 
from the nest, standing his ground bravely until she has reached 
a place of safety, when he also takes to flight. 

Many are the tales which have been told concerning the 
dangers which beset the man who dares to attempt to rob the 
Golden Eagle of its young or eggs : stories of the majestic birds 
swooping down in righteous anger and fiercely attacking the 
robber as he hangs perilously suspended from a slender rope over 
the face of the rocky clifl" where the birds have their eyrie, or 
clings precariously to a narrow ledge. It is very doubtful, 
however, whether there is any foundation whatever for these 
adventurous tales, for Golden Eagles, though courageous enough, 
appear to possess but little parental affection, and I have never 
come across a really reliable account of these birds making the 
least attempt to defend their young. Usually they fly away 
and either disappear from sight altogether or watch the robbery 
from afar. All Birds-of-Prey do not behave in this callous fashion, 
however ; some of them have a way of swooping down close to 
the head of any person who approaches their nest and uttering 
ear-piercing shrieks, but they seldom actually make an attack. 

There are, however, exceptions, and it is well for the intruder 
to be prepared for emergencies. Robbing an Osprey's nest is a 
dangerous proceeding, and some of the Goshawks are particu- 
larly vigorous in their attacks on any one who ventures to climb 
towards the nest. Usually the female alone is the defender of 
the home, but occasionally, as with the Sharp-shinned Hawk, male 
and female join forces and buffet the egg-collector rather severely. 

What might be the result of one of the larger Birds-of-Prey 
coming down upon a man'*s head from a great height it is 




Defending the Home 

" ]\Iy goose sits, while the gander with vast assiduity keeps guard, and takes the 
fiercest sow by the ear, and leads her away crying." 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

difficult to say, but if one may judge by comparison with the 
impression produced by an Owl, it would be far from agreeable, 
as the following incident, which occurred in the neighbourhood 
of my own home, will shwv. One evening a gentleman was 
walking through a wood beside a small lake when a young 
Owl fluttered past him and alighted on the ground. Without 
difficulty he caught the little bird under his cap ; but just at 
that moment a strange thing happened. As described by him- 
self, he was apparently " struck on the head by a brick,""* and 
was so disconcerted that his captive was allowed to escape ; 
but what had really occurred was that one of the old birds had 
come to the rescue of her young, and had very successfully 
pounced down upon the head of its captor. 

The Owls, indeed, are a brave family, and if it would not 
be too tedious we might, I think, without much difficulty, 
show that scarcely a single species is devoid of courage. We 
must be content with one more instance before passing on to a 
different aspect of defence. In this case a dog and his master 
were passing within a short distance of the spot where a pair 
of Short-eared Owls {Asio accipitrinus) had their nest. Both 
birds set to work to drive away the dog by swooping upon him 
from side to side and striking him on the back with their 
wings. He was not accustomed to birds conducting themselves 
so boldly, and he beat a hasty retreat, pursued for some 
distance by the angry Owls, who then turned their attention 
to the dog's master and endeavoured to drive him away also 
by swooping very close to him and snapping their beaks. 

So far we have been mainly concerned with the various 
methods of defence adopted by birds, great and small, against 
man and mammals. But there are other enemies, of their own 
race, to be encountered, and here again we constantly meet 
with instances of impetuous daring. The most remarkable of 
them all is the behaviour of the King-bird {Tyranniis tyrannus\ 
one of the best-known birds of the United States, during the 
summer months. He is not a large bird — rather smaller, 

89 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

indeed, than our English Blackbird; nor is he particularly 
showy, though his black back and white front and his little 
flame-coloured crest, which in repose lies half hidden, are hand- 
some enough, when added to his bold and confident bearing, 
to give him a very gentlemanly and even noble appearance. 
As for song, his shrill twitter is hardly worthy of the name. 
What is it, then, that makes this little bird so very remark- 
able ? It is this : from the moment the foundation twigs of 
his big, compact nest are laid, until the day when his young 
family are able to fight their own battles, he divides his time 
between feeding and entertaining his mate and little ones and 
giving battle, from morn till night, to every bird that ventures 
anywhere near his precious nest. His impetuosity is irresistible, 
and he attacks every intruder without discrimination. Even 
cats quickly learn to shun the neighbourhood. 

"In the months of May, June, and part of July," says 
Wilson, " his life is one continued scene of broils and battles ; 
in which, however, he generally comes off conqueror. Hawks 
and Crows, the Bald Eagle and the great Black Eagle, all 
equally dread a rencontre with this dauntless little champion, 
who, as soon as he perceives one of these last approaching, 
launches into the air to meet him, mounts to a considerable 
height above him, and darts down on his back, sometimes fixing 
there to the great annoyance of his sovereign, who, if no con- 
venient retreat or resting-place be near, endeavours by various 
evolutions to rid himself of his merciless adversary. But the 
King-bird is not so easily dismounted — he teases the Eagle 
incessantly, sweeps upon him from right to left, remounts, that 
he may descend on his back with the greater violence ; all 
the while keeping up a shrill and rapid twittering ; and con- 
tinuing the attack sometimes for more than a mile, till he is 
relieved by some other of his tribe equally eager for the con- 
test." There appear to be but three birds which are able to 
contend with this champion : one is the Purple Martin (Progne), 
whose marvellous powers of flight enable him to escape ; another 

90 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

is the Red-headed Woodpecker, who greatly irritates the little 
t}Tant by his skill in dodging him round the perch where 
he has taken refuge, and apparently much enjoys the game ; 
and the third is a little Humming-bird, which simply defies this 
conqueror of Eagles, and is said very often to come off best ! 

Even an ordinary farmyard Hen has been seen attacking a 
Hawk, which was on the point of carrying off one of her 
chickens, with such force as to throw the marauder on its back, 
whereupon she continued the fight with feet and bill so effec- 
tively that Audubon, who relates this story, was able to secure 
the Hawk before it could escape from the infuriated mother. 

Some of the Ducks are hardly less devoted, but it must be 
admitted that the drakes are^ for they are constantly in the 
habit of shirking their responsibilities and leaving all the care 
of the brood to their mates. If disturbed when taking her 
family for a swim, the Eider-Duck covers their retreat by beat- 
ing the water with her wings and so raising a screen of spray 
all around, while, by means of a peculiar sound, she urges her 
little ones to dive. If hard pressed, she will spring out of the 
water to attack the enemy ; but a favourite device is to feign 
lameness, and so entice the intruder to follow her while her 
chicks make good their escape. This is a method which is 
practised by birds of many species, and we shall have to return 
to it later. Gulls are amongst the worst enemies of the Eider 
ducklings, and both Brehm and Audubon have noticed that two 
Ducks sometimes very prudently join forces for the more effectual 
guarding of their young, which are then seldom assailed. 

As for the Gulls themselves, they make a terrible fuss when 
a man visits their nesting- colony ; and their near relatives the 
strong, piratical Skuas, or ' Bonxies," as they are called in the 
Shetlands, are in the habit, when their breeding-grounds are 
invaded, of swooping down upon the visitor's head from a 
height of about two hundred feet. As the birds get near their 
speed is terrific ; just before reaching the intruder they drop 
their feet, and strike in passing, often knocking the cap off the 

91 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

head. According to Graba, bird-catchers sometimes hold 
knives above their caps, with the result that the impetuous 
birds occasionally impale themselves on the blade in their 
violent swoop. Both male and female join in the attack ; the 
swoop is invariably made from behind, and directly after strik- 
ing the bird rises gracefully on outstretched wings and wheels 
round to prepare for another attack. In the Antarctic the 
Skuas, when disturbed while guarding their fluffy little slate- 
coloured chicks, wheel round and swoop down in a similar 
manner, with wild cries ; but Captain Scott says that he does 
not think any member of his party was ever actually struck, for 
at the last moment the birds used to turn aside. They often 
passed so near, however, that the men were brushed by their 
wings ; and their tactics were decidedly alarming, for the Skua 
is a big heavy bird with a large ugly bill, and quite able, if it 
were just a little more courageous, to give a lot of trouble. 

The Tropic-Bird {Phaethon), or ' Boatswain ' as sailors call 
it, adopts similar tactics towards man. Leguat, who named 
this bird Straw-Tail on account of the peculiar projecting 
middle feathers, says: "These Birds made a pleasant War upon 
us, or rather upon our Bonnets ; they often came behind us, 
and caught 'em off our Heads before we were aware of it : this 
they did so frequently that we were forced to carry Sticks in 
our hands to defend our selves. We prevented them some- 
times, when we discovered them by their shadow before us : we 
then struck them in the Moment they were about to strike us. 
We cou'd never find out of what use the Bonnets were to them, 
nor what they did with those they took from us " — from which 
we must evidently understand that, unlike the Bonxies, Leguafs 
Straw-Tails were not content with knocking off the sailors' 
bonnets, but carried them away. It is interesting to note that 
both Boatswain and Bonxie are thoroughgoing buccaneers, and 
we shall have something to say about their piratical habits in 
another chapter. 

The Giant Petrel {Ossifraga gigantea), or 'Nelly' of sailors, 
92 



DEFENCE OF HOME AND FAMILY 

has a more unpleasant way of repelling invaders. In the South 
Orkney Islands these birds, which are vultures in habit, form 
rookeries of about two hundred nests all within a small area, 
though not quite so close_ together as the nests in a Penguin 
rookery. Each nest consists of half a bushel of pebbles and 
measures two or three feet in diameter ; on this heap of stones 
a pure white egg is deposited. In order to secure the egg, the 
bird has to be knocked off the nest, and it shows its resentment 
and does its best to protect its property by sitting down a yard 
or two away and ejecting the contents of its stomach at the 
intruder ! The result is such that there is no doubt whatever 
that the old sealers were amply justified in giving to these 
birds the uncomplimentary name of ^ Stinkers."* 

A more sportsmanlike method of defence is adopted by the 
aristocracy of Antarctic avifauna, the Penguins. 

Dr. Wilson, who accompanied Captain Scott on his voyage 
" furthest south," and whose interesting observations have 
added so greatly to our knowledge of the natural history of 
the Antarctic, writes concerning that comical creature the 
Adelie Penguin : " It would require a cinematograph to do 
justice to the peculiarities of the Penguin. . . . When annoyed 
in any way, the cock bird ranges up in front of his wife, his 
eyes flashing anger, his feathers erect in a ruffle round his head, 
and his language unfit for publication. He stands there for a 
minute or two breathing out threatenings and slaughter till 
his rage overpowers him, and putting his head down he makes 
a dash at one's legs and hails blows upon them with his 
flippers like bullets from a machine gun." 

Enough instances have now been given to show that many 
birds, both great and small, will offer plucky resistance to an 
intruder whom they suspect of harbouring unfriendly intentions 
towards their family ; but there is another kind of defence 
which is of peculiar interest, and which we must consider in 
the next chapter. 



93 



CHAPTER VI 
MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

Deceptive behaviour — The ' httle brown bird ' — Death-feigning — Lapwings 
and egg-gatherers — Wiles of the male bird and protective colouration of 
the eggs — Avosets and Stilts — Ducks and Drakes — Ostrich — Unkingly 
conduct of a King Vulture — Some artful dodgers — A cat's hunting — The 
paralysing effect of fear and the advantage which hunters take of it — 
Difference between death-feigning and the immobility of protectively 
coloured birds — The real 'possum— The popular idea of a ' shamming ' 
bird — A true fairy-tale — Natural selection. 

IN describing the various ways in which birds protect their 
young we have hitherto hardly referred to the strangest 
and most interesting of them all, but this is really an 
advantage, because if we consider it by itself we are more 
likely to come a little nearer to understanding what is a very 
puzzling question. Every sportsman and every naturalist is 
aware that when certain birds feel that their nests or young are 
in danger they behave in a very curious manner, fluttering or 
limping over the ground as though they were badly wounded 
and had the greatest difficulty in making good their retreat. 
The result of this strange behaviour is that the enemy is often 
completely deceived by their actions and is lured on in pursuit, 
for it seems impossible that the bird can escape as it struggles 
wildly only a few yards ahead, apparently almost exhausted by 
its efforts. Time after time it is almost within reach, and to all 
appearance it cannot possibly elude capture much longer ; but 
somehow it always manages to keep just out of reach until, 
seeming suddenly to recover, it flies rapidly away and the chase 
becomes hopeless. Many of the Game-birds are most skilful 
performers of this little comedy, but the same method is re- 

94 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

sorted to by a great variety of birds, from the little Warbler to 
the mighty Ostrich ; Lapwings, Plovers, Rails, Avosets, Ducks, 
Pigeons, Pipits, and Bmitings are all adepts in the practice. It 
is difficult even for those who are aware of their habits not to 
be deceived, while dogs are easy dupes and never fail to be led 
away by the manoeuvre. When the chase is over and the bird 
has flown, the pursuer is usually far away from the nest, and if 
there be young ones they have had ample time to scatter in all 
directions and find secure hiding-places where it is almost hope- 
less to try to find them. 

Our common Partridge is one of the best known exponents 
of this curious trick. Its devotion to its eggs and young is 
familiar to all dwellers in the country, but no amount of 
familiarity can diminish the interest which is excited by its 
wonderful devices. The rapidity with which a brood of young 
Partridges will make good their retreat while the parents dis- 
tract attention by their antics, and the completeness with which 
they disappear from sight, have frequently been described. 

Sterland, in his book on the birds of Sherwood Forest, says : 
"I once came suddenly on a brood of young ones, who could not 
have been more than a day or two old ; they were accompanied 
by both old ones, and were busily feeding on an anthill in the 
midst of the moss and heather. On my unexpected appear- 
ance, the cock bird tumbled off on one side and the hen on the 
other, with well-feigned lameness. Out of curiosity I threw 
myself on the ground and tried to secure some of the young 
ones ; but, to my surprise, it was in vain. A few seconds before, 
there were ten or a dozen of them in a spot scarcely larger than 
my hat, but before I was down on my knees, they were dis- 
persed in all directions amongst the surrounding heather, and 
I failed to capture one of them. I could not help admiring 
the instinct which prompted these tiny things to such instant 
and energetic action, for it could not have been acquired by 
imitation or experience." 

Some birds carry the deception a step further and simulate 
95 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

death, but this heroic measure is more often resorted to as a 
means of self-protection than for the purpose of assisting in 
the escape of the young. That is what we should expect, 
because it is clearly a greater advantage to the brood if the 
enemy can be induced to leave the neighbourhood, and that can 
best be done by enticing him in the way we are now consider- 
ing. Still, ' death-feigning,*" as it is usually called, is some- 
times practised by anxious parents, and Audubon observed it in 
the case of the American Woodcock (^Scolopax minor), who 
"regardless of her own danger . . . lay herself down in the 
middle of a road as if she were dead, while her little ones, five 
in number, were endeavouring on feeble legs to escape from a 
pack of naughty boys." We are not told whether the five 
young Woodcocks got away from their tormentors, but no 
doubt the weaker side found a good friend in the kindly 
naturalist. Few of us, however, have an opportunity of wit- 
nessing quite such a stirring drama in bird-life ; yet the every- 
day incidents are hardly less interesting, and some of the most 
familiar birds are always ready to ' play the game "* at the 
proper season of the year. 

Wherever there are broad, barren pastures, ploughed fields, 
or moorland — almost anywhere, in fact, if only the ground be 
open enough — we may hear the wild, wailing cry and see the 
graceful flight of that most beautiful and picturesque of our 
common birds — the Lapwing, or Pewit. Perhaps there is no 
bird of blameless life — from our point of view — which is so 
greatly persecuted as this. Its handsome livery, which at a 
distance appears to be of black and white in about equal pro- 
portions, but the dark parts of which are really a beautiful 
green gleaming with purple and enlivened with bronzed reflec- 
tions, makes it an easy mark for the gun ; while its eggs— 
commonly known as ' Plovers'* eggs ' — are taken by thousands 
to be sold for the table. Not that all the so-called Plovers' 
eggs of the market are really what they pretend to be : many 
of them are those of the Black-headed Gull, or of some of the 

96 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

Terns, which are rather hke Lapwings' eggs in appearance, and 
can hardly be distinguished from them in flavour except by 
people with a very delicate sense of taste. It is commonly 
believed that Rooks also contribute to the supply of 'Plovers' 
eggs,' but that is an absurd notion, for there is not the 
slightest resemblance between the shells of the two kinds, and 
it w^ould be impossible to mistake one for the other. 

Most of the eggs sold as Plovers', however, are those of the 
Pewit, and the birds' domestic arrangements suffer in con- 
sequence very severely at the hands of man. There is no 
doubt that they would be still more interfered with if the male 
bird were not so skilled in the art of deception dm'ing the 
nesting season. Probably most schoolboys are aware how 
difficult it is for a novice to discover a Pewit's nest in a large 
field. Here and there a bird is seen flapping in easy, irregular 
curves over the ground, uttering its unmistakable cry, and 
you watch carefully to ascertain in which spot its interest is 
centred : then you walk towards it. As you approach, the 
plaintive notes become more frequent, and the bird seems to be 
more and more distressed ; it screams and complains, and 
falters in its flight ; it dashes and tumbles frantically hither and 
thither, and you feel quite sure that the nest is within a few 
yards of you. But no — you decide that you were mistaken : 
you had misjudged the distance, and the nest must certainly be 
a little further on, for there is the bird in greater distress than 
ever ; and surely it has hurt its wing ? Why, it can hardly fly 
— see how it is tumbling over the ground ! Ah, you nearly 
overtook it then, it only Jm^^ managed to dash away ! But the 
effort has exhausted it, and now it can scarcely control its move- 
ments in its desperate efforts to escape. Away over the ground 
it plunges and the pursuit becomes more exciting until — why, 
what is this ? The bird has recovered and is flying easily — 
forty — fifty — a hundred yards away ! Tired and breathless, 
you turn again to look for the nest, only to realise that, so far 
as you can remember, it was somewhere over there, on the 
G 97 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

other side of the field, that you first noticed the bird. So you 
walk across, and to and fro, and look on this side and on that ; 
but one bit of ground seems just as likely as another and no 
nest is visible anywhere : perhaps you were wrong after all, and 
the birds have no nest in that particular field. 

Now that, or something like that, is what occurs when a novice 
turns aside from his path to look for Plovers' eggs ; but let us watch 
a man who had had experience in collecting them for the market. 
He looks over the field and sees birds wheeling about, flash- 
ing black and white in the early sunlight, and he hears their 
complaining ; but he does not heed them. His attention is 
directed to those other birds that rise silently and unobtrusively 
as he approaches, and he carefully notes the spot which each one 
leaves. He does not regard the frantic behaviour of the cock, 
but walks straight to the spot from which the hen has risen, 
looks narrowly around, and then, a few yards away, something 
attracts his attention. 

Let us suppose we are by his side ; very probably we see 
nothing at all except the rough ground and here and there, 
perhaps, a few scattered stones. But the egg-gatherer steps 
forward and stoops down ; and then suddenly we see the nest 
and its precious contents, and we understand why we did not 
perceive it before. For the nest is nothing more than a slight 
hollow in the ground with perhaps a few bits of dry grass or 
other vegetation around its margin, and the four black-spotted 
olive eggs, lying with the pointed ends all together (in which 
position they occupy least space and are most easily covered by 
the sitting bird), are scarcely to be distinguished from their 
surroundings, unless one happens to be looking directly at them. 
So although the Lapwing entrusts its treasure to the bare, open 
ground, and although its plumage is so conspicuous, it is seldom 
that the nest is seen, except by the trained eye, owing to the 
' protective colouration "* of the eggs and, what we are now par- 
ticularly concerned with, the wiles of the male bird in leading 
the intruder astray. Only the superior cunning of the pro- 

98 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

fessional collector enables him to walk straight up to one nest 
after another, and e\en to judge, from the behaviour of the hen, 
whether he will find the fall number of eggs and whether the 
bird has begun to sit. 

Other members of the same great group as the Woodcock and 
the Lapwing have their own peculiar methods of counterfeiting 
lameness. We will mention but two — those strange and inter- 
esting birds the Avoset and the Stilt. The Avoset (Recurvi- 
rostra avocetta) is a bird about as big as a Lapwing and is 
remarkable for possessing, in proportion to its size, one of the 
most slender of bills, which is curved like a cobbler's awl, with 
the point turned upwards. Of old time these birds were plenti- 
ful in certain parts of England, such as Romney Marsh and the 
fen district. In Norfolk and Suffolk people made puddings of 
their eggs, and their feathers were used for tying artificial flies 
for fishing. But though they still visit us occasionally they 
have long ceased to dwell with us, and none has been known to 
breed in this country for almost half a century. We learn, 
however, from the accounts of older naturalists, that when the 
female was frightened off her nest it was she who counterfeited 
lameness ; and before passing on to the Stilt we may mention that 
it is likewise the hen who adopts this method of defence in the 
case of the pretty little American Ground-Dove, in the Southern 
States. Dr. Ralph says : " When one is driven from a nest con- 
taining eggs it will drop to the ground as if shot, and will 
then flutter around as if wounded, to try to draw the person 
disturbing it away from the nest, but, whether it succeeds or 
not, it will soon fly off." This little bird is more interesting in 
its ways than the majority of the Pigeons, which are not usually 
very entertaining, for when there are young in the nest it is 
very determined in its efforts, fluttering and tumbhng and 
dashing around in the wildest manner until it appears wellnigh 
exhausted by the violence of its antics. 

The Stilt (Himantopus candidus) is a much smaller bird than 
the Avoset, being in fact no larger than a Snipe, but it has extra- 
; 99 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

ordinarily long legs — longer, in proportion, than those of any 
other species, not even excepting the Flamingo ; on this account 
it is sometimes called the ' Longshanks,' or Long-legged Plover. 
Its home is on the muddy margin of pools and lakes, but it is 
only an occasional visitor to Great Britain. 

When the hen -birds are sitting their partners roam over 
the marshes or wade in the pools, hunting for food about the 
surface of the water, but as soon as anybody approaches they 
all flock together and fly around, with their long legs trailing 
out behind, keeping up a continual yelping cry. Wilson 
says : " As they frequently alight on the bare marsh, they 
drop their wings, stand with their legs half bent, and trembling, 
as if unable to sustain the burden of their bodies. In this 
ridiculous posture they will sometimes stand for several 
minutes, uttering a curring sound, while from the correspond- 
ing quiverings of their wings and long legs, they seem to 
balance themselves with great difficulty. This singular manoeuvre 
is, no doubt, intended to induce a belief that they may be 
easily caught, and so turn the attention of the person from the 
pursuit of their nests and young to themselves." 

Amongst the Ducks the seeming lameness takes yet another 
form, as we should expect from their different build. If the 
fine, handsome, sturdy Sheld-ducks are disturbed when taking 
their young family to the water for a swim, they trail and limp 
along the ground as though they had all their lives suffered 
severely from rheumatism and could hardly put one foot 
before the other; then, when they have succeeded in their object 
of warding off* the danger from their little ones, they hurriedly 
return to them and fuss over them like the devoted parents 
that they are. 

A more familiar bird than the Sheld-duck in England is the 
ordinary Wild Duck. In his delightful book on Wild England 
of To-day^ Mr. Cornish describes how a pair of Wild Drakes 
were flushed from a shallow ditch near the lake in Richmond 
Park. " Almost at the same moment a lame duck shuffled 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

distressfully from the same spot, and moved off slowly, with 
apparent difficulty, in a direction parallel to the lake. The 
counterfeit was so remarkable, that had we not caught a 
glimpse of a small black object dashing into the marsh which 
lay a few feet from the drain on the opposite side to the course 
taken by the duck, no suspicion as to the reality of her dis- 
ablement would have occurred. Meanwhile, the old bird 
invited pursuit, lying down, as if unable to move further; 
and, resolved to see the end of so finished and courageous a 
piece of acting, we accepted the invitation and gave chase. 
For twenty yards or more the bird shuffled and stumbled 
through the rhododendron bushes, until she made for the lake- 
side, where the ground was more open. There, running fast, 
with her head up and discarding all pretence of lameness, for 
another twenty yards, she took wing, and flew slowly just 
before us, at about three feet from the ground, until she 
reached the limit of the enclosure, when, uttering a derisive 
quack, she rose quickly above the trees and flew out over the 
lake. 

"Anxious to see the sequel to this beautiful instance of 
maternal affection, we hurried back to the little marsh where 
the ducklings were probably hidden, and, sheltered under a 
rhododendron bush, awaited the return of the . . . wild duck 
to her brood. In a few minutes she reappeared, flying swiftly 
in circles among the trees, and after satisfying herself that the 
danger was past, she alighted among some wild-currant bushes 
about thirty yards from the marsh. There she stood for a 
moment, still and listening, with head erect ; and, seeing 
nothing to alarm her, ran bustling down to the drain. After 
realising that no harm had overtaken her brood on the spot 
where they had been surprised, she climbed the bank and 
tripped lightly into the marsh, where, in answer to her low 
quack, we soon heard the piping voices of the ducklings, which 
till then had remained motionless and invisible in the few 
yards of grass and rushes near. In a few seconds the whole 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

family were united, and we had the pleasure of seeing the old 
bird swim past at the head of an active fleet of eleven black- 
and-yellow ducklings, making for the centre of the marsh.'"* 

All these birds are habitually self-sacrificing — or at least 
appear to place themselves in considerable danger — for the 
sake of their young ; but we occasionally find instances of 
similar conduct in species that are as a rule by no means so 
exemplary in their devotion. The Ostrich is one of these ; 
when surprised by man in the company of its young, the 
parent Ostrich usually scuds ofi' as fast as he can over the 
desert and leaves the chicks to shift for themselves. 

On one occasion, however, Mr. Anderson and Mr. Galton 
came upon a pair of Ostriches which showed more affection for 
their young. As these gentlemen approached, the whole family 
took to flight in company, the mother leading, followed by her 
chicks, and the cock-bird bringing up the rear some distance 
away. The chicks were unable to cover the ground very quickly 
and the male soon discovered that they were being beaten in 
the race, so he deliberately slackened his pace and turned aside 
a little. The hunters, however, refused to be led away, so he 
increased his speed and with drooping wings began to rush at a 
tremendous pace round and round the pursuers, gradually 
decreasing his circle and coming nearer to them until he was 
within pistol-shot, when he suddenly dropped to the ground 
and seemed to be making desperate efforts to regain his feet. 
A shot had already been fired at him, and Mr. Anderson hurried 
towards him in the belief that he was disabled. In that opinion 
he was mistaken, however, for as soon as it appeared wise to 
retreat the bird rose to his feet and began to scud away in the 
opposite direction, while his family, who had in the meantime 
put a wide space between themselves and their pursuers, con- 
tinued on their course uninjured. 

We have given enough examples of the strange instinct 
which leads birds of many species to behave as if they were 
wounded or otherwise disabled, with the result that their enemies 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

are often lured away from the nest or young, which thus 
escape destruction : we have described the tumbling flight of the 
Partridge, the antics and distressed cries of the male Lapwing, 
the similar conduct of the hen Avoset ; we have spoken of the 
attitudinising of the Stilt, the hobbling run of the Sheld-duck, 
the tactics of a Wild Duck, the frantic action of the American 
Ground-Dove, and the curious strategy of a male Ostrich ; we 
have mentioned also how an American Woodcock went even 
further than any of these, and lay in the road as if dead, when 
its brood was in danger. It will be interesting now to con- 
sider how the death-feigning instinct serves birds for self- 
defence, and to try to understand the meaning of it all, if 
we can. 

I remember seeing, many years ago, a young King Vulture 
which had recently arrived at the ' Zoo ' from South America. 
He was a well-grown youngster, about as large as a Goose, but 
he was very shy and behaved in a most unkingly way in the 
presence of strangers, when he was being watched, for he used 
to crouch down, lay his head upon the ground, and remain 
quite still, like a dead bird. The North American Screech- 
Owl (Scops asio) of the Rocky Mountains also practises this 
deception. When the female is removed from her nest, she 
sometimes moans, snaps her bill, and shows fight ; frequently, 
however, she does none of these things, but lies back perfectly 
motionless in the open hand with her eyes shut, to all 
appearance dead. If she be thrown up into the air while in 
this condition, she rights herself at once on the wing and alights 
on a neighbouring bough, where she stands crouching forward, 
with her ear-tufts turned back in a way that is sugges- 
tive of a bad-tempered horse, looking very spiteful and 
wicked. 

We need not, however, go abroad for instances of death- 
feigning, for it is practised by a bird which is one of the 
commonest British species, although, owing to its stealthy 
habits, most people have never seen it. We refer to the Land- 

103 



MAKE-BELIEVE: A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

Rail or Corncrake {Crex pratensis\ whose curious, double, 
creaking cry, uttered as it skulks amongst the meadow grass, 
may be heard incessantly during the spring at almost all times 
of the day and night. Canon Atkinson has given an amusing 
account of the behaviour of this bird when captured, which we 
will quote. He says : " A gentleman's dog catches a land-rail 
and brings it to his master, unhurt, of course, as is the well- 
trained dog's way, but to all appearance perfectly dead. The 
dog lays the bird down at his master's feet, and he turns it over 
with his toe. It simply moves as it is moved, all its limbs 
limp. Continuing to regard it, however, the man sees an eye 
opened, and he takes it up. The ' artful dodger ' is quite dead 
again in a moment, head hanging and dangling, limbs loose, 
and no sign of life anywhere. It is put in its captor's pocket, 
and, not liking the confinement, begins to struggle. When 
taken out, it is just as lifeless as before ; but being put down 
on the ground and left undisturbed — the gentleman having 
stepped to one side, but continuing to watch— it lifts its 
head in a minute or so, and, seeing all apparently serene, 
it starts up on a sudden and ' cuts its lucky ' with singular 
speed." 

Now, is the bird really an " artful dodger," or is it so timid 
that it is terrified into insensibility — a second and perhaps a 
third time — as soon as it discovers on opening an eye that its 
enemy is still there ? That is a question which we are not yet in a 
position to answer. The marsh-dwelling Water-Rail {Rallus 
aquaticus), also a skulker, can 'play 'possum' just as success- 
fully, and Canon Atkinson's account goes on to say : " In the 
case of the water-rail, which came under my own observation, it 
was picked up on a snowy day by the most intimate of the friends 
of my youth and early manhood. He assumed that it was dazed 
with cold, and perhaps what we Yorkshire folks call 'hungered ' as 
well. So he brought it home with him, and laid it on a foot- 
stool in front of the dining-room fire. Five minutes passed — 
ten were gone — and still the lifeless bird lay as it was put down, 

104 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

dead to all seeming ; only not stiff, as it ought to have been, if 
dead of cold as well as hunger. A few minutes later, my friend, 
who was very still, but yet with an eye to the bird, saw it — not 
lift its head, like the land-rail, and take a view, but — start off 
in a moment with no previous intimation of its purpose, and 
begin to career about the room with incredible rapidity. It 
never attempted to fly. Any other captive bird in its position 
would have made for the window at once, and beaten itself half 
to pieces against the glass. Not so the rail. With it, in its 
helter-skelter and most erratic course, it was anywhere rather 
than the window or the fire. Round the room, across the room, 
under the sofa, under the table, from corner to corner, steering 
itself perfectly, notwithstanding legs of chairs, legs of tables, 
the sofa-feet, footstools, or what not, on and on it careered ; 
and it was not without some patience and many attempts that 
it was eventually secured." 

Such a sudden change from death-like stillness to frenzied 
activity is what we should expect in an animal recovering 
from a swoon and finding itself in an alarming situation from 
which its sole desire is to escape at all costs, rather than the 
behaviour of a good actor bent on hoodwinking his audience 
until he sees a favourable opportunity of slipping away unob- 
served. Perhaps the bird was frightened out of its senses 
when first surprised in a weak condition brought on by hunger 
and cold, but was not so easily overcome by fright when its 
circulation had been restored in front of the warm fire, and 
had then sufficient presence of mind to take to its heels (it 
would be more correct to say, take to its toes in the case of a 
bird) and try to get away. 

The question is, can a bird be so terrified as to be paralysed 
by fear ? I think it can. From my college rooms I used to have 
many opportunities of watching a fine black tom-cat hunting 
Sparrows. Tom's favourite method was to lie concealed under 
a laurel bush beside the lawn and wait patiently until a 
Sparrow alighted within reach, and then to make a spring. 

105 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

He was seldom successful, for he was getting old and, though 
still a fine figure of a cat, was rather stout and not so agile as a 
younger animal. But he never seemed to tire of his hunting, 
and in this he sometimes reminded me of those patient anglers 
who are quite content to sit the livelong day beside a stream 
whether they catch anything or nothing. But to return to our 
story : occasionally a Sparrow would hop about in a tantalising 
way just a little too far off for the hunter to risk a spring ; he 
would then creep out from his hiding-place very stealthily in the 
hope of getting nearer unobserved. Very often, however, the 
Sparrow would catch sight of him before he was close enough to 
pounce upon it, and then I noticed that the bird was usually 
too terrified to fly away immediately — or at all events did not 
fly at once, as it no doubt would have done had it been able. 
Frequently there was quite a long pause before its little body 
sank close to the ground for the spring which helps the wings at 
the beginning of flight ; and Tom, in spite of his years, was 
often the first to jump. 

There can be little doubt that this momentary overwhelming 
sense of terror in birds, when they first catch sight of their 
deadly enemy at close quarters, gives the cat a great advantage 
in its hunting and enormously increases the number of victims. 
The so-called ' fascination ' exercised by snakes over their prey 
is due to a similar cause ; and certain other birds besides the 
Land-Rail and Water-Rail are afi'ected in the same way by man. 
The fine Pileated Woodpecker {Picus pUeatus), commonly 
known in North America, which is its native country, as the 
Logcock, is paralysed with fright if a man approaches unheard 
and makes suddenly as though to catch it. Not infrequently 
it falls to the ground as if dead without being touched, but 
when left to itself it quickly recovers and flies off" with the 
utmost speed. On the pampas of the Argentine, in the 
Southern continent, Mr. Hudson tells us that the gauchos 
often capture the Black-necked Swan {Cygiius mgricoll\s) by 
frightening it. This is a large, handsome bird with a pure 

1 06 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

white body, a black neck, and a bright red knob on its ' nose.' 
When a flock of them are feeding or resting on the grass, the 
gauchos approach them quietly on horseback, taking care not 
to get on the windward side of them, and then suddenly wheel 
towards them and gallop at full speed, shouting at the top of 
their voices. The birds are so terrified that they cannot move, 
and fall easy victims. The gaucho boys also catch another 
bird, the Silver-bill {Lichenops perspicillata), by flinging a stick 
or a stone at it and then rushing in while it sits absolutely 
motionless, disabled by fear. In these cases it would seem 
almost possible to catch the birds by the method so often 
recommended to children by their elders — by putting a pinch 
of salt on their tail ! 

There are other birds which appear not to feign death — 
if we are still to speak of it as feigning — until they are actually 
caught. It certainly is not always a sham, whatever we may 
think about it as a rule, for captured birds sometimes die 
outright, being, in fact, literally frightened to death ; while 
others drop down dead if they are only chased. Amongst the 
latter, according to Mr. Hudson, is the Spotted Tinamou, 
which is also ridden down by gaucho boys. The Tinamous 
are peculiar birds whose home is in South America, where 
they are often spoken of as 'partridges,' which they at first 
sight resemble, though their small head, slender neck, and long 
biU give them a very distinctive appearance. Darwin was 
struck by their silliness in allowing themselves to be taken, 
and in truth they have but poor brains and are lacking in 
intelligence almost as much as in courage. Now it is not to 
be supposed that such a foolish bird as this could intentionally 
play a part with much success, yet we learn that when 
captured, after a few violent struggles to escape, it drops its 
head, gasps two or three times, and to all appearances dies, 
but the very moment it is released, the eyes open wide, there 
is a rattle of wings, and the bird has flown ! 

We know that many birds, such as those which inhabit the 
107 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

desert where there is no cover in which they can take refuge, 
and young birds of numerous kinds, endeavour to avoid cap- 
ture, when they are alarmed, by crouching down close to the 
ground and keeping perfectly still, their colour harmonising so 
perfectly with their surroundings that it is extremely difficult 
to detect them even at close quarters. But this habit is not 
to be confounded with death-feigning, for the moment such 
birds perceive that they have been discovered they take to 
flight or run away with the utmost speed. 

Death-feigning is not confined to birds; we find the same 
thing amongst mammals, and though this is not the place to 
speak of them at great length, we may mention as examples 
the opossum, and a South American fox which lies so still 
when it is overtaken that it may even be lashed with a whip 
without showing the slightest sign of life. When we consider 
all these different cases, it is difficult not to believe that the 
animal is not consciously shamming, but is really for the time 
being quite insensible and does not know what is taking place, 
though it may recover suddenly and make a desperate effi^rt to 
escape. 

But what are we to think of those other cases of apparent 
shamming in which the birds seem to be wounded ^vhen their 
nests or young are in danger ? Are they intentionally acting, 
or do they behave so strangely because they must^ under the 
influence of an overpowering instinct ? Let us see what it 
would mean if the bird were knowingly and intelligently play- 
ing a part. It would indicate that the bird, which might 
never have seen a wounded comrade, knew exactly how a wound 
would affect its movements ; it would mean that it knew what 
effect its behaviour would have upon an enemy ; it would mean 
that it was a most accomplished actor. But that is not all, for 
we should have to suppose that the bird — often of a species by 
no means remarkable for its intelligence — could reason with 
itself somewhat after this fashion : " Hello ! here comes a dog, 
and there are all my little ones playing about ! Hell catch 

io8 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

them, sure as faith ! I had better try to attract his attention 
and get him out of the way while they hide ; if I pretend to 
be wounded he will run after me, and then they will have time 
to get away. I must be careful, though, that he doesn'^t ideally 
catch me ; but I must not move too quickly, or else he won''t 
follow ! '' Would it not be a very clever bird indeed to think 
of all that in a moment, and then carry out the plan with skill 
that a first-rate actor might envy ? 

No, I think we must give up the idea that any bird is capable 
of such a deep-laid scheme ; it would be a little more than the 
most cunning of them could devise. But in that case, what is 
the explanation ? Probably it is something like this. Once 
upon a time, as they say in the fairy-tales — and * once upon a 
time' is very long ago in the true fairy-tale of science — 
when birds began to be very fond of their homes and children, 
they were so much distressed when they saw their beloved pos- 
sessions in danger that, although they were dreadfully fright- 
ened too, they could not fly straight away, but dashed hither 
and thither, hardly knowing what they were doing. The 
enemy, attracted by their strange movements, naturally 
started off in pursuit, and so the eggs or the little ones 
escaped. 

Now in many things the children and grandchildren and 
great-grandchildren, and so on, through ever so many genera- 
tions of animals, behave like their parents ; we all know how a 
dog turns round and round before lying down, because its wild 
ancestors a thousand generations back had the same trick and 
turned round thus to make a nice snug bed in the long grass. 
So with our birds : the chicks of the parent bird who behaved 
so strangely through anxiety for their welfare would probably 
themselves act in a similar manner when it was their turn to 
bring up a family, and so their chicks would escape and grow 
up to carry on the trick ; while the chicks of those individuals 
which just flew straight away would be caught and killed and 
so never grow up at all, or have any little ones of their own. 

109 



MAKE-BELIEVE : A STUDY IN INSTINCT 

The birds which tumbled about just enough, so that they both 
escaped themselves and warded off the danger from their 
chicks, would be the ones to rear successfully the most families 
and so perpetuate the race, and in that way the instinct would 
gradually be perfected. Here we have an instance of what, 
following the teaching of that great naturalist Charles Darw^in, 
we speak of as ' Natural Selection.' 



CHAPTER VII 
SPORT AND PLAY 

The meaning and importance of play — Fighting games — Playful pecking of 
tame birds— Nursing and nest-building play— Flying games—Swimming 
games — ' Folio w-my- leader' — Hide-and-seek of climbing birds — Swing- 
ing — Birds and children— Toys and playthings— Mischief and destructive- 
ness— Practical jokes, 

IT has been said that animals do not play because they are 
young, but that they have their youth because they must 
play ; and it is hardly too much to say that their success in 
life depends to a great extent on their success in play at this 
time, for their actions in play are nearly always of a kind not 
very different from the actions they will have to perform in real 
earnest later on. In play the animal either is not serious 
in what it does, or it tries to do things which there is no 
necessity for it to do at the time, but which, sooner or later, it 
will have to know how to do unless it is to fare very badly in 
life. Play forms a most important part of a young animal's 
education and of an older animal's business training, and if 
I were asked to say in as few words as possible exactly what 
animal play is, I think I should describe it as the exercise of in- 
stinctive activities just for fun. 

The desire to play is itself an instinct, and as it is found in 
nearly all the higher animals we may be sure that it is a valuable 
one. It is worth while to consider rather more fully in what 
way it is so important. Play enables an animal to practise the 
exercises and actions which are necessary for its existence ; in 
play it gains control and mastery over its body; it learns to 
move about skilfully — to fly, walk, leap, hop, run, or swim ; it 



SPORT AND PLAY 

becomes agile in hunting its prey, deft in seizing it, strong in 
holding it ; it learns the knack of shaking and disabling it ; 
it learns to lie in wait, to hide, to dodge when running or 
flying ; and it learns to fight and to defend itself. Many of the 
things it is able to do when grown up, but which it does not 
know how to do instinctively, it first learns in play. 

We must not forget, however, that there are other ways in 
which animals learn to do things, and one of them is by 
imitation. All the higher animals have a tendency to imitate 
the actions of their fellows, and in that way they learn to do a 
great many things which are themselves by no means playful ; 
but having learnt them by imitation, they often practise them 
afterwards in play. Young animals, like children, take pleasure 
in pretending ; like children, too, they are full of curiosity, 
and a desire to 'find out all about it.' They enjoy energetic 
action ; they enjoy making things move ; they enjoy doing 
things which they 'don't have to,' just for the pleasure of 
doing them. 

Fighting games are the favourite form of play amongst many 
young animals ; it is hardly necessary to mention puppies as an 
example. In the same way, young birds often indulge in mock 
battles which sometimes become very realistic, especially as the 
birds grow older. Young Sparrows peck one another vigor- 
ously when they have nothing whatever to quarrel about, so far 
as we can see, and this habit never leaves them. We regard 
Sparrows as quarrelsome birds, and so they are, but there 
is little doubt that many of their ' shindies ' are without serious 
foundation or intent. A Sparrow in high spirits chirps aggres- 
sively, another Sparrow answers back ; then there is a flutter 
of wings, and all the Sparrows in the neighbourhood hurry to 
the spot and join in, just for the fun of the thing. A general 
free fight ensues, with much abusive language and mutual buf- 
feting, but as none of the combatants has any particular 
grievance against any other the squabble lasts only a few 
seconds, and then, having given vent to their superabundant 



SPORT AND PLAY 

high spirits and energy, the birds disperse as suddenly as a little 
crowd of street urchins at the cry of " Policeman ! " 

Other Finches also know the fascination of a friendly en- 
counter, but few of them are quite so ready to improvise riotous 
assemblies as the hooligan Sparrows. Starlings are almost 
equally quarrelsome, and Wagtails bite and chase one another 
as enthusiastically as puppies. Young Game-birds thoroughly 
enjoy a ' scrap," and it is by no means an uncommon thing to see 
two youthful Partridges with their wings spread and heads 
down indulging in a scrimmage. 

A favourite amusement of many tame birds is to bite play- 
fully at their master's fingers. If you have ever been on friendly 
terms with a pet Canary, you are probably familiar with this 
form of play. A brother of Brehm, the naturalist, had a tame 
Vulture which used to amuse itself by nibbling his fingers with- 
out hurting them, just as a friendly terrier will pretend to bite 
his owner's hand in play. The mock anger of a tame Bullfinch 
is very realistic ; the bird gapes, hisses, flutters his wings, and 
ruffles his feathers at his master exactly as he does before a 
combat with a rival, although the two are on the most friendly 
terms. A pretence of challenge and combat is the most usual 
form of animal play, and it is easy to realise how useful it is as 
a training for real warfare. 
(' But though among wild creatures skill in self-defence, and in 
attack too, is often a matter of necessity, life is not all fighting. 
There are other, more peaceful, arts which are in their way just 
as important, and these often have their counterpart in play. 
Many young birds make themselves useful in the nursery and 
help to look after their little brothers and sisters. When 
Canaries have two broods in the season, the youngsters of the 
first family often feed the nestlings of the second brood. In the 
same way a family of young Swallows which had themselves not 
long outgrown the nest have been known to help their parents 
to feed their little brothers and sisters. Some young birds are 
even more enterprising, for Altum saw several young Killdees 

H 113 



SPORT AND PLAY 

still in their first suit of feathers busy mothering a young 
Cuckoo. 

Young Moorhens have another interesting habit. In many 
cases the parents have several broods in the same season, the hen 
beginning to lay again when the first hatch is about a fortnight 
old. The young of the first brood have therefore to turn out of 
the nest, but the cock-bird builds another nest for them to rest 
and sleep in, and immediately on the appearance of the second 
hatch they assist the old birds in feeding and brooding over 
them, and then in taking them out in little parties. But this 
nursery-play goes still further, for they make additional nests 
for them, like their own, beside the water. Another water-bird, 
the Dabchick, also indulges in nest-building play, but not quite 
of the same kind. The Dabchick's nest is a heap of floating 
weeds and rushes, and as time goes by it becomes more and 
more sodden and sinks deeper in the water, so that it would 
disappear altogether beneath the surface if more weeds were 
not heaped on the top of it. But like many other water-birds, 
Dabchicks constantly add fresh material to their nest, and as 
soon as the young are old enough to help in this they do so. 

Even old birds sometimes indulge in playful building — 
' fancy-work ' to pass away the time. Whether the ' cock- 
nests ' which are made by certain birds, such as Wrens, are 
constructed merely in play, or whether they all serve some use- 
ful purpose, we do not know. Weaver-birds (Ploceus) in 
captivity spend a great deal of time in the exercise of their 
craft, and if for any reason they cannot make their peculiar 
purse-like nests, they still weave, using every available bit of 
thread or straw to entwine in the bars of their cage, passing it 
in and out between the wires, knotting it, and weaving such an 
intricate tangle that it can only be removed by cutting. This 
is, perhaps, nothing more than the industry of enforced idleness, 
and it may be that in their wild state the birds are too busy 
with their serious building and all the family cares that follow 
to do any weaving for mere amusement. 

114 



SPORT AND PLAY 

There are a few instances of birds, which were not in the con- 
dition commonly known as 'broody,' sitting on eggs that did not 
belong to them, apparently for nothing but their own amuse- 
ment. When Mr. Bartlett was in tropical South America he 
saw a Curassow {Notliocraoc iiriimuhan) running about amongst 
the common Fowls in a Peruvian's house. Curassows are fine, 
handsome birds nearly as large as a Turkey ; their home is in 
the forest, but they are often captured by the natives and kept 
as pets, becoming quite tame and even affectionate towards their 
owners. 

The particular bird described by Mr. Bartlett was the tyrant 
of all the domestic animals about the house, and would bully the 
dogs themselves and di'ive them out of doors. What was 
especially interesting was that when one of the Hens began sit- 
ing, it drove her off the nest and took her place ; but it soon 
wearied of the game, and one day it destroyed all the eggs, like 
a bad child who breaks his toys when he is tired of them. As 
we shall see in another chapter when speaking of Ravens and 
Magpies, other birds besides Mr. Bartlett's Curassow display a 
taste for mischievous amusements. 

Many species of birds fly for pleasure and perform all kinds 
of strange antics while on the wing. The Parson-birds of New 
Zealand, so called on account of two white tufts hanging under 
their chin like the white bands which used to be worn by 
clergymen, mount high in the air on fine days in parties of six 
or more and amuse themselves in a sportive flight accompanied 
by quite a variety of clever tricks. Moving round in wide 
circles, they turn and twist, throw somersaults, and parachute 
down with wings and tail spread wide. Then they dash up- 
wards again and, closing their wings, support themselves in the 
air for a few moments by rapid beats of the expanded tail ; but 
they cannot maintain their position long in this manner, and 
soon they begin another parachute descent, with the wings 
closed. As they come near the ground, the wings are half 
opened, and they shoot forwards and away, and so on, until at 

115 



SPORT AND PLAY 

last, as if on some preconcerted signal, they all suddenly dive 
towards the forest and disappear from sight. 

Many different species of birds enliven their flight by turning 
somersaults, but the only kind with which most people are 
familiar is the Tumbler Pigeon. Like all other domestic 
Pigeons the Tumblers are descended from the Rock Dove, which 
does not tumble, and some people maintain that their per- 
formance is therefore not natural. But as Darwin pointed 
out, the birds could not have been taught to perform this trick, 
and the instinct must have appeared naturally in the first 
place, though it has been strengthened by the selection of the 
most skilful birds, probably for hundreds of years. The result 
is that in the present race of Tumblers there are some wonder- 
ful performers. Their usual method is to fly in a olose flock to 
a great height, turning back-somersaults as they rise. 

Some birds cannot rise a yard from the ground without turn- 
ing over, and some spring only a few inches from the floor, 
turn a neat back-somersault, and alight on their feet. In India 
there has been for 250 years past a breed which tumble over 
and over on the ground after being shaken slightly, and do 
not stop until they either fall exhausted or are taken up and 
blown upon ! This can hardly be regarded as play, for the 
birds seem to be quite unable to help themselves ; they must 
tumble, whether they will or not. But the more ordinary 
Tumblers appear to have a certain amount of control over their 
performance, and to enjoy it. A bird that had strayed five 
miles from the cote and was driven home with stones did not 
tumble once all the way, but as soon as she came in sight of 
the cote she darted inside for her mate and the pair together 
celebrated her return by a grand round of tumbling. Some 
birds, of the kind known as 'Rollers,' roll over and over so 
rapidly as they fall through the air for twenty feet or so, that 
it is impossible to count their turns, and they look like a ball 
coming down. 

Besides antics such as these, and the spirited sporting flight 
ii6 



SPORT AND PLAY 

of the Parson-bird, the games indulged in by Cuckoos may 
appear rather tame, but they are more of the nature of what 
we usually understand by play. Late in the afternoon in 
May, where these birds are plentiful they resort to some 
familiar glade or patch of ground dotted over with bushes and 
join in a sort of 'general post' or ' follow -my -leader,' in 
which any bird among them is the leader of the moment and 
is pursued by a companion as she flies from bush to bush to 
join another bird. The next minute she in her turn may fly 
away, flitting gracefully across the open ground pursued by a 
comrade, and so on, restlessly, untiringly, with no apparent 
plan or order or intention beyond a wish to play or dally with 
one another in the spring sunshine. The game proceeds noisily 
with many cries of "cwcAjoo/" and half a dozen breathless 
variations of the call, sometimes not going beyond a single 
syllable, a soft " MX',"" a sharp " Ixuh,'"'' sometimes broken up, as 
it were, into three, or repeated in various ways. 

Snow-Buntings have a boisterous little game of their own, in 
which a whole flock join. When they are all on the wing, 
those in advance alight on the ground ; the birds coming on 
behind pass close over and settle in front of them, and so on, 
until the last birds of the flock are just about to alight, when 
the first members of the party — which now form the rear ranks, 
all the others having flown over their heads — take wing again 
and fly over to the front, and the manoeuvre is repeated by 
numbers of the birds in turn, so that the whole flock appears 
to be roiling along the ground. The game is played to an 
unceasing accompaniment of clear call-notes. On meeting with 
any obstacle or arriving at a place such as the edge of a cliff*, 
which breaks up their party, they all fly off" together to a 
distant spot and begin again. 

In his account of the animals which he met with in the 
desolate Antarctic region. Dr. Wilson gives an amusing de- 
scription of the playfulness of the Adelie Penguin. The quaint 
little bird darts about hither and thither in the icy waters like 

117 



SPORT AND PLAY 

a fish, dashing to and fro beneath the ice floes, bobbing up 
from the water a hundred yards away with the suddenness of 
a Jack-in-the-box and leaping on to the ice in sheer play, 
apparently with no more serious purpose than to wag his tail 
and squawk a greeting to a comrade far away on the floe. 
Having accomplished his object, in he dives again and, guiding 
his course in some wonderful manner, comes up just where he 
wished. 

In the open sea, the birds play a sort of game of follow- 
my-leader, shooting through the water, propelled by their 
queer little wings, as fast as fish, gambolling like dolphins, and 
popping up on the ice floe like rabbits. " Smart, comical, 
confiding little beasts, the most excellent company imaginable 
in such a desolate region as the Antarctic, they are like any- 
thing in the world but birds." Penguins have two very terrible 
enemies which pursue them under the water — the Killer Whale 
and, a little further north amongst the pack-ice, the fierce 
Sea -Leopard, a huge seal twelve feet in length. Against 
such creatures as these they are of course quite powerless to 
defend themselves, and their only means of safety, if one of 
these animals comes on the scene while they are fishing, is to 
seek refuge on the ice. There can be little doubt therefore 
that their follow-my-leader and Jack-in-the-box games serve a 
useful purpose as a training in agility, on which their life 
depends, both in obtaining their food and in escaping from 
their foes. 

When climbing birds are alarmed they try to avoid detect 
tion by hiding behind a branch or tree-trunk, and they are 
nearly all very skilful dodgers. It is very difficult indeed to 
get a glimpse of a Woodpecker if he wants to keep out of 
sight ; he runs round and round the trunk, clings to the bark 
with his sharp claws, and on whichever side you may be, he 
always contrives to be on the other. You will therefore not 
be surprised to learn that the Woodpecker's favourite game is 
hide-and-seek. These birds are much addicted to play, and 

ii8 



SPORT AND PLAY 

often a whole family join in the game, dodging one another 
round the tree, lying close against the bark with half-opened 
wings until discovered, darting away, chasing one another, and 
behaving generally in the most lively and frivolous manner for 
five minutes at a time. 

Other birds are very fond of swinging. We know that this 
is so in the case of cage-birds such as Parrots and Canaries, 
which take evident pleasure in swinging on a ring; in a state of 
nature, Tits and many of the Finches are often seen clinging to 
the end of a slender bough and swinging on it. I believe 
Rooks and Crows thoroughly enjoy, on a windy day, being 
swayed about on the topmost branches of tall trees — at all 
events if they do not they might easily find a more stable 
perch lower down. Mr. Hudson and Dr. Sclater describe how 
"White-tailed Kites {Elanus leucurus) in the Argentine sport in 
the high winds. They are handsome birds with ruby-red eyes 
which contrast finely with the snow-white feathers of their 
plumage. Their flight is as buoyant as a gulFs, and their 
wing -power is marvellous ; like the Martin, they delight to 
soar in a gale of wind, rising and falling alternately, and will 
spend hours at a time in this sport. Now and then they seem 
entirely to abandon themselves to the fury of the gale and are 
whirled away like thistle-down until, suddenly asserting their 
power again, they shoot back in the teeth of the wind to their 
original position. For their most interesting game, however, 
they require a cluster of tall poplar trees, and the way it is played 
is as follows. Each bird chooses a separate tree and perches on 
the slender twigs at the very top, balancing itself there with 
outspread wings. Then, when the next strong gust comes, they 
let go ; the tree tops, swaying about with the force of the gale, 
are swept from under them, and the birds remain poised almost 
motionless in the air until the twigs swing back again to their 
feet. 

Crows and Jackdaws also have a boisterous little game of 
their own which is played with much zest on a windy day. It 

119 



SPORT AND PLAY 

consists in one bird suddenly hustling another off the tree or 
tower where he is perched, and taking his place — ^just as boys 
when bathing often push each other from the river-bank into 
the water. 

There is not only a great deal of similarity between the play 
of many animals and that of children, but in some cases a feel- 
ing of fellowship and cordial understanding is shown by the 
way in which animals and children join in each other'^s games. 
This is, of course, most often seen in the case of dogs, but 
occasionally tame birds have been known to show the same 
kind of playful friendship. Naumann speaks of a tame Stork 
whose favourite amusement was to join with children in a game 
of catch. It used to run after them in the street with out- 
stretched wings and seize their jackets with its bill, and then 
run away again, looking round to see -whether it was being 
followed. It would in turn allow itself to be caught by the 
wing, and then once more run after the children. Similarly 
Glinzel relates how a tame Magpie at a school used to go out 
with the children at playtime and invite them to play by hop- 
ping about excitedly and snapping her bill. She preferred the 
boys, who loved to tease her and tried to catch hold of her tail, 
but she was too quick for them, for she hopped nimbly aside 
and dodged so skilfully that it was impossible to touch her, 
though at other times, when not playing this game, she wag 
quite docile. That it really was a game, and one which she 
thoroughly enjoyed, was quite evident from the way in which 
she followed any boy who would play with her, and never 
seemed to tire of the sport. 

Whether Magpies, Jackdaws, Ravens, and other birds 
look upon the glittering objects of all sorts, which they are so 
fond of collecting and hiding away, as playthings, it is difficult, 
to say. One frosty morning at the ' Zoo," Mr. Cornish found the 
Ravens busy hiding all the pieces of broken ice they could find, 
in holes round the edges of their aviary. In order to conceal a 
large fragment more effectually one of the birds pulled it from 



SPORT AND PLAY 

the cranny into which it had been poked and carefully rubbed 
it in sand till it was well covered with a coat of grit before 
pushing it back again. The same morning "the Gulls were 
particularly noisy, and playing at a new game with bits of ice, 
which they picked up from the broken edges of their ponds and 
let fall on the sound ice. They then scrambled and fought for 
the pieces as they slid on the slippery surface."" One big Gull 
swallowed his new toy, "a large triangular piece, which stuck 
for some time in its throat, and evidently gave it much dis- 
comfort until the sharp edges melted." 

Some birds undoubtedly do have playthings with which they 
amuse themselves for hours at a time. A Crane will often play 
ball with a pebble or a bit of earth, tossing it into the air and 
catching it, or trying to do so, as it falls. I have seen a tame 
Raven amusing himself with a piece of wood exactly as a dog 
does, carrying it about, laying it down as an invitation to his 
master to try to take it away from him, and just at the critical 
moment picking it up again and dodging. 

Girtanner speaks of a Vulture which used to tug at its 
master''s watch-chain and clothing, or pull straws from his hand, 
" chuckling with delight " meanwhile. Straw appears to have 
been this bird's favourite plaything and when it saw its master 
getting ready to plait a straw rope it always joined him at once 
and stood by until the rope was ready for it to bite and pick to 
pieces. The padding of its cage was stuffed with straw — a 
perfect treasure-house of playthings ; when the bird discovered 
this it tore open the cover and proceeded to apply the contents 
to its own particular use. 

Mischief and destructiveness are often near akin to play in 
birds as in boys. Key, speaking of his Carolina Parrots, says 
that their favourite amusement was throwing their water-vessels 
out of the cage when they had finished drinking, and if the 
cups broke they gave evident signs of enjoyment. 

Linden kept some Cockatoos which would turn over the 
food-trough in their cage. He fastened it to the bars with 



SPORT AND PLAY 

wire, he screwed it down, and tried all sorts of means to secure 
it, but the birds knew perfectly well how to unscrew it, and 
were never satisfied until they had got it loose again ; sooner or 
later they always succeeded in their efforts. 

Perhaps Cockatoos are without exception the most destruc- 
tive of birds, for they will gnaw through planks two inches 
thick, and even through a thin sheet of iron. Some enter- 
prising birds amongst them are such determined prison-breakers 
that they will do their best to penetrate a brick wall. 

No doubt Dickens exaggerated a little, as was his way, in his 
story of a Raven that died young, but as in his other exaggera- 
tions, the foundation of what he says is true enough. He 
writes : " It may have been that he was too bright a genius to - 
live long, or it may have been that he took some pernicious sub- 
stance into his bill, and thence into his maw, — which is not 
improbable, seeing that he new-pointed the greater part of the 
garden-wall by digging out the mortar, broke countless squares 
of glass by scraping away the putty all round the frames, and 
tore up and swallowed, in splinters, the greater part of a 
wooden staircase of six steps and a landing." 

The variety of Raven {Corvus corax principalis) which iii- 
habits the most northerly part of the American continent is 
credited with being a particularly mischievous bird, and is said 
to take special pleasure in annoying and teasing dogs. A 
sleeping dog gives him a fine opportunit}^ for a practical joke, 
and he delights to arouse the sleeper by dropping a stick or a 
stone upon him. Only the most highly developed animals and 
birds, such as Monkeys, Parrots, and Crows, are clever enough 
to invent jokes of this kind. The various members of the 
Crow family in America appear to be exceptionally resourceful 
in such tricks. The American Magpie sometimes imitates the 
cry of a Hawk and sends poultry running helter-skelter in 
every direction ; on another occasion it will produce a sound so 
exactly like the cackle of a Hen after she has laid an egg that 
the rooster is completely deceived by it and hurries to the spot 



SPORT AND PLAY 

where his lady appears to be, in order to pay her a few cour- 
teous attentions, only to discover that it is voa; et prceterea 
nihil — she is nowhere to be seen. The Blue Jay {Cyanocitta 
criMata) is an even more gifted mimic, for he can imitate to 
perfection the call-notes, alarm-notes, and cries of distress of 
quite a number of birds and animals, and delights in doing it 
for his amusement. Owls he is especially fond of fooling, and 
sometimes he has the temerity to tease Hawks, which he may do 
in safety while he keeps to the cover of the woods, but in the 
open the Hawk sometimes gets his revenge, and the conse- 
quences for the Jay are serious. 

According to Brehm, the gentle and respectable Ibis (one 
species of which was regarded as a sacred bird by the Egyp- 
tians and figures in their kingly cartouches), is not above 
occasional practical joking. He writes : " Those I have known 
lived fairly peacefully with all the other birds sharing their 
quarters, but domineered to some extent over the weaker ones 
and took apparent pleasure in teasing them. The Flamingoes 
were their especial butts, and they had a very curious method 
of teasing' them. While they were asleep, the head buried 
amongst the feathers, an Ibis would quietly sneak up and peck 
at their webbed feet, from pure mischief, and not meaning to 
hurt them."" The Flamingo, startled out of his nap by the 
tickling of his feet, would glance at his tormentor and move 
away to another spot, but he was not allowed to sleep in peace, 
for the Ibis was soon after him and indulging in the same 
pranks. 

Numerous other examples of birds' mischievousness, destruc- 
tiveness, and practical joking might be given, but though they 
are amusing, such tricks are not play in the true sense of the 
word, and we must pass them by in order to describe habits 
which are in many ways more interesting. 



123 



CHAPTER VIII 
PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

The Paradise-bird's playing-tree — Beauty on a pedestal — The Argus 
Pheasant's dra\ving-room— A wonderful courtship display— Sexual selec- 
tion — The Polyplectron's playground and courtship — The club-grounds 
of Game-birds — Bower-birds and their pleasure-houses— Satin Bower-birds 
at the ' Zoo' — Decorating the bower— A depot for lost property — Coiurtship- 
play— The Spotted Bower-bird's avenue and playthings — The Regent 
Bower-bird's love of colour — Carpeted playgrounds — The Gardener-birds 
and their beautiful pleasure-grounds— The Golden Bower-bird's toy 
village and triumphal arch. 

TO speak of " Birds at Play '' seems quite natural and 
reasonable, for play is what we should expect of 
creatures nearly all of which are so active and vivacious, 
and in many cases so intelligent. But when we come to talk of 
playgrounds and playhouses or pavilions it is quite another 
matter, for though it is well known that birds have their 
favoui'ite localities and often remain in the same neighbour- 
hood, and even within a very small area, for considerable 
periods of time, especially in the nesting season, we are apt to 
look upon them as wanderers who can, and do, range far and 
wide, flying where they will, with the world for their parish, 
and therefore not at all likely to claim one tiny spot upon the 
ground for their sporting like the less favoured beings who are 
bound to earth for want of wings. Nor do we expect to find 
them engaging in architectural pursuits other than the build- 
ing of nests. Yet birds^ playgrounds and playhouses do exist, 
and though they are by no means common they are not so rare 
as might be supposed, for a considerable number of species 
construct them. 

124 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

Short of an actual -plsij-groimd, the nearest approach to it is 
a favoui'ite tree which the birds frequent for their social 
gatherings, and where they amuse themselves with strange 
antics. The Great Bird -of- Paradise {Paradisea apoda\ for 
example, chooses a tall forest tree with an immense head of 
spreading branches and thin foliage which gives plenty of clear 
space for play. There a dozen or twenty full-plumaged male 
birds assemble in the early morning and display their beautiful 
plumes, raising their wings high over their backs, stretching 
out their necks, and keeping their rich golden side-feathers in 
continual vibration. They fly about from branch to branch in 
great excitement, so that the tree presents a kaleidoscopic 
scene of dancing colour; and so intent are the birds on play 
that they can be shot down one after another with arrows by a 
hunter concealed in a little shelter of palm leaves among the 
branches. 

Many other birds of beautiful decoration have special play- 
ing-grounds, where they spend much of their time in attitudin- 
ising and displaying their charms. The most fantastically 
ornamental of them all are the Lyre-birds {Menurce) of 
Australia. In some respects, as in colour and in the large 
size of its feet, a Lyre-bird is not much unlike a Megapode, 
but its wonderful tail is perhaps the most remarkable and 
peculiar decoration possessed by any bird. The two large, 
broad, strangely curved outer feathers, whose resemblance to 
the form of a lyre has given the bird its name, appear at first 
sight to be notched at intervals, almost from end to end, across 
the whole width of the inner web, but the seeming notches are 
really transparent patches of feather of an open texture. In 
addition to these remarkable feathers they have a number of 
light filamentous plumes like those of the Paradise-birds. It 
takes four years for the bird to put on his full livery, and 
then, alas ! he does not retain it long, for the beautiful tail is 
soon moulted. But while he has it, he is naturally very proud 
of such a fine possession, and takes great care of it. Going 

125 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

through the brushwood of his native forests he carries it 
straight out in a line with the body so that it escapes being 
damaged by contact with the branches ; but when he arrives at 
his playground he raises it on high and spreads it out to show 
its full beauty. 

The playground is a small, round hillock, trampled smooth 
by the bird's powerful limbs, which are so muscular that he 
can make a standing jump of ten feet to the branch of a tree 
and then bound by similar leaps from branch to branch. On 
the top of this hillock he stands, constantly trampling, scratch- 
ing, and pecking, while he gracefully droops his wings and 
moves his tail about to an accompaniment of song. Some- 
times it is his own proper song, clear and musical, that he 
sings ; at others it is that of any bird he takes it into his head 
to imitate, for he is one of the cleverest of bird-mimics. 
Speaking of the species known as Prince Albert's, Mr. Ley- 
cester says : " One of these birds had taken up its quarters 
within two hundred yards of a sawyer's hut, and he had made 
himself perfect in all the noises of the sawyer's homestead — 
the crowing of the cocks, the barking and howling of the dogs, 
and even the painful screeching of the sharpening or filing of 
the saw."" 

Another bird of princely splendour which makes a special 
playing-ground whereon to disport himself and exhibit the 
grandeur of his attire is the Argus - Pheasant {Argusianus 
argils). Though it has no gorgeous colours, after the Peacock 
this is perhaps the most splendidly decorated of all the large 
birds in existence. Like its namesake it is the possessor of 
' a hundred eyes,' the whole of the outer web of its enormous 
secondary wing-feathers being decorated with circular spots, 
each of them rather larger than a halfpenny, of white and 
yellow, shading to a deeper rufous tint, and surrounded by a 
ring of black, the colour being so beautifully arranged and 
shaded that each spot or ' eye,' when held in a certain position, 
looks exactly like a ball resting in a cup. This Argus-Pheasant 

126 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

(there are two other species) inhabits the forests of the Malay 
Peninsula, Siam, southern Tenasserim, and Sumatra. In some 
parts of Tenasserim it is quite common, and if a gun be dis- 
charged in the forest numbers of the birds begin to utter their 
loud '^hozv-hoiv''^ note, which is audible fully a mile away. 
This is the male bird's call-note ; the female has quite a 
different cry, which may be represented by "how-ozvoo, how- 
oicoo ! " with the last sound much prolonged, and when calling 
she repeats the sound more and more rapidly until it ends in a 
series of " owoos " all run together. 

Except when she has made her nest, the hen-bird has no 
fixed abode, but wanders at large in the forest. The cock, on 
the other hand, chooses an open spot where the ground is level, 
sometimes in a dark and gloomy ravine shut in by dense cane- 
brake and rank undergrowth, at others on a hill-top where the 
vegetation is less dense, and there establishes what Mr. Davi- 
son, who knew more than any other writer about this bird, 
called a drawing-room. It is a very unpretentious drawing- 
room, and is made by simply clearing away all weeds and dead 
leaves from a space measuring about twenty feet from side to 
side, until nothing remains but the bare earth. Thenceforth 
all the bird's spare time is devoted to keeping his drawing- 
room tidy, and if he finds a dead leaf or a twig or any other 
kind of litter lying there he never fails to remove it at once. 

The Malays are very well aware of this habit and turn it to 
account in their ingenious method of trapping the bird. They 
take a narrow splinter of bamboo about eighteen inches long 
and shave it down until it is as thin as paper and as sharp as 
a razor; then they fasten one end of it to a stout peg or 
handle. During one of the bird's expeditions in search of food 
they enter his drawing-room and drive the peg firmly into the 
ground. When he comes home again and sees an untidy- 
looking object rather like a giant grass-blade sticking up right 
in the middle of his drawing-room floor, the very first thing 
he does is to try to remove it. He takes hold of it with his 

127 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

beak and gives it a pull ; the tii'esome thing will not break off 
easily, as a weed should do, however, and after tugging at it 
for some time and trying to scratch it up, he begins to be 
annoyed. But he is determined to get rid of it somehow, so 
he gives it two or three turns round the neck in order to get a 
better hold, and taking the peg in his bill, springs backwards 
with all his might. The peg does not move, but the thin, 
tough bamboo-shaving tightens up, its sharp edges cut deeply 
into his neck, and he falls down with his head almost severed 
from his body. 

Another way in which the Malays trap these birds is by 
erecting a sort of miniature football-goal in the middle of the 
' drawing-room,"" and slinging from it a heavy block of wood by 
a string which passes over the cross-bar and is fastened to a peg 
immediately under the block. In this form of trap the peg is 
driven into the ground quite lightly, so that the bird can pull 
it up without much difficulty. As soon as he does so the 
string is released and the log which hangs from the other end 
of it falls upon him and crushes him. 

Without having recourse to such arts as these it would be ex- 
tremely difficult to capture the beautiful Argus, for though he 
spends all the time he can in his clearing, and roosts in the nearest 
tree, he is an extremely shy bird. However stealthily a hunter 
may approach the spot where an Argus is quietly pacing to and 
fro in his drawing-room, uttering his peculiar call, when he gets 
near enough to peer through the dense surrounding foliage he 
is almost certain to find that the bird has deserted his clearing 
and dived into the thicket. We cannot therefore be quite 
sure how he passes all the time which is spent in his play- 
ground. 

Mr. Davison thought that he probably dances there, but he 
never succeeded in catching one amusing himself in this way. 
It is very likely, however, that in answer to his loud calling he 
receives visits from the hens which, as we have already men- 
tioned, wander about the forest, and that he entertains them by 

128 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

displaying to their admiring gaze his wonderful attire, just as he 
has been observed to do in captivity. 

He begins by strutting to and fro in front of the hen in order 
to attract her attention, casting sidelong glances upon her and 
occasionally shaking his wings in a lively manner, so as to make 
her understand that he is in a playful mood and quite ready to 
entertain her if she will but take notice of what he is doing. 
Having sufficiently aroused her curiosity and prepared her for 
what is to follow, he halts close in front of her and — triTrrh ! with 
a rattle of quills and rustling of feathers he is suddenly trans- 
formed before her very eyes into a great circular screen with one 
edge on the ground, and in an almost upright position, like a 
picture on an easel. It may be compared to the sudden open- 
ing of a Japanese sunshade. Not a vestige of bh^d remains, for 
his body and limbs are completely hidden, and even his head is 
tucked away at the back of the outspread wings so that nothing 
shall obstruct the hen's view of the wonderful picture he has 
displayed for her admiration. 

The open wings are overtopped by the enormously long tail- 
feathers, towering high above all the rest, and the shading of 
the eyes on each great wing-feather is so disposed that, with 
the light shining from above, every one of them looks exactly 
like a real ball lying in a real cup. At the same time the 
smaller wing-feathers, the primaries, are turned down in front 
of the breast near the ground like two little fans or shields, and 
as every one of these feathers appears to have a second smaller 
feather of chestnut dotted over with tiny white points painted 
upon it, the display is very wonderful indeed, and if the hen- 
bird does not admire all these exquisite patterns she must be 
very difficult to please. But since even his head is behind the 
screen, how is the possessor of so much finery to know whether 
she is pleased or not ? By moving his head a little lower he 
would be able to peep under the edge of the wing and so watch 
the effect of his display. Some naturalists think that is what 
he does ; but Mr. Bartlett saw the Argus at the ' Zoo ' adopt 
I 129 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

another plan. He noticed that some of the secondaiy feathers 
were often rather frayed and worn near the base, and he was at 
a loss to account for this until he observed one of the birds, 
while showing off, suddenly pop his head through the screen, 
between two feathers, as though to inquire what he and the hen 
and the world in general thought of that for a show ! 

Some people declare that amongst birds the female really 
cares very little about the fine clothes of her wooers and is quite 
incapable of appreciating their beauty, being far more impressed 
by a bold and quarrelsome demeanour than by richness of attire. 
If that were so in all cases such a bird as the Argus would be in 
sorry plight, for his wonderful decoration and extraordinary 
attitudes during courtship would be purposeless and entirely 
wasted, and he seems to be wholly devoid of the fighting spirit. 
He will even allow himself to be flaunted in his own drawing- 
room and driven out of the clearing by a Pheasant of another 
species, rather than attempt to defend his domain, as the 
following incident, related by Mr. Davison, shows : — 

" I had stalked an Argus, and while waiting to obtain a good 
shot, I heard the peculiar note, a sort of 'chukun, chiikun'' 
followed by the whirring noise made by the male Fireback,^ and 
immediately after saw a fine male Fireback run into the open 
space, and begin to chase the Argus round and round its clear- 
ing. The Argus seemed loth to quit its own domain, and yet not 
willing to fight, but at last being hard pressed it ran into the 
jungle. The Fireback did not attempt to follow, but took up 
a position in the middle of the clearing and recommenced the 
whirring noise with his wings, evidently as a challenge, where- 
upon the Argus slowly returned, but the moment it got within 
the cleared space, the Fireback charged it, and drove it 
back into the jungle, and then, as before, took up his position 
in the middle of the space and repeated the challenge. The 
Argus immediately returned, but only to be again driven back, 
and this continued at least a dozen times, and how much longer 
^ The Fireback Pheasant of Tenasserim {Lophura rufa). 
130 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

it would have continued I cannot say, but a movement on my 
part attracting the birds' attention, they caught sight of me, 
and instantly, before I could fire, disappeared into the jungle. 
The Argus never made the slightest attempt to attack the 
Fireback, but retreated at once on the slightest movement of 
the latter towards it, nor did I see the Fireback strike the 
Argus ^vith either bill, wings, or spurs.'"* 

I do not know whether the Polyplectron, a near relative of 
the Argus, is equally peaceable in its disposition, but this is 
hardly likely because the cock-bird has weapons on his legs, in 
the form of double spurs, which mark him out for a fighter, and 
look quite capable of making short work of an adversary. The 
Polyplectron is a splendid little Pheasant which inhabits almost 
the same region of the world as the Argus, but is rather scarce 
and local. In the island of Palawan, to the north of Borneo, 
Mr. Whitehead found it in only one forest. Like the Argus, 
it makes a clearing in some unfrequented spot and keeps it 
neatly swept. Right in the middle of the ring, which is much 
smaller than the Argus's drawing-room, there is often a hump of 
earth, where the bird no doubt stands, as on a pedestal, to show 
off his fine feathers ; for though he is a much smaller bird than 
the Argus, he is hardly less wonderfully adorned, and is even 
more ingenious than that bird in striking attitudes when 
courting. His feathers are marked with brilliant eyes like 
those on a Peacock's train, but in his case the ornaments 
appear on the wings as well. 

Now when a Peacock wants to be seen to the best advantage 
by his lady-love, he stands facing her, because he has to show 
her his beautiful blue throat and breast as well as his wonderful 
tail. But there is nothing very attractive about the 
Polyplectron's breast, which is rather dull and sombre than 
otherwise ; so he turns it away, out of sight, while he raises and 
spreads his tail and twists it a little to one side, at the same 
time dropping the nearer wing and raising the opposite one. 
In this ingenious attitude he struts before the admiring female 

131 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

with every 'eye' he possesses turned towards her. If she 
walks over to the other side of him, he at once changes front, 
throwing up the opposite wing and giving his tail a twist so that 
she may still see only what is most beautiful in his plumage. 

Both the Argus and the Polyplectron, then, make little 
private playgrounds where they spend their time either in 
solitude or with only one spectator to admire their antics ; but 
many Game-birds have a sort of club-ground where they meet 
and sport in company, and that is, of course, in some ways far 
more interesting. Being Game-birds, however, they seem to be 
unable to play without quarrelling, and as there is a great deal 
to be told about their doings I think we had better reserve 
them until we come to consider the courtship of birds, when 
we shall have to speak about their dancing parties and tourna- 
ments. 

We now come to one of the most remarkable circumstances 
in bird-life. In the Australian region, the home of the Mound- 
Builders (whose curious ' incubators ' we have already de- 
scribed), and of the strangely adorned and interesting Lyre- 
birds, there dwells a family known as the Ptilonorhynchidce or 
Bower-birds. There is nothing very extraordinary in the ap- 
pearance of these birds, which are about the size of a Jackdaw 
(to which they are allied) and usually by no means bright in 
colour, though some of them have gaily coloured crests or parti- 
cularly glossy plumage. Their claim to distinction lies in their 
astonishing habit of building arbours and playhouses, or 
pavilions, which are in some cases surrounded by elaborate 
pleasure-grounds, and are the most curious of the many strange 
examples of bird architecture. These arbours or bowers have 
nothing to do with the nests which the birds build, and which 
are of quite an ordinary kind, being not unlike that of our own 
Jay. On the contrary, they are designed and erected and laid 
out for amusement and play, and for nothing else. Every kind 
of Bower-bird has its own peculiar style of architecture ; some 
of the bowers are quite simple in form and others are more 

132 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

elaborate, but they are all so strange that if you came across 
one and did not know that it had been made by a bird, I think 
you would be quite sure that you had at last discovered the 
real home of a fairy. 

The species of Bower-bird which is best known in this 
country is the Satin Bower-bird {Ptihno7'hynchits violaceus\ 
whose name is derived from his beautiful glossy blue-black 
plumage, which shines like satin in the sunlight. He has, 
besides, large and lustrous eyes of azure blue, set in a circle of 
coral red, and is altogether a handsome bird in spite of his quiet 
colouring. The female is greenish in colour and by no means 
so glossy as her husband, though she of course shares his name. 
Both male and female may be seen in our Zoological Gardens, 
where you may often find them at play and watch the cock- 
bird building his bower. 

The bower is built of slender twigs, arranged in the form of 
a very short avenue, open, of course, at both ends. Some of 
the twigs are curved and cross each other overhead, so that on 
looking through the bower you see that the top of the tunnel 
is pointed, like a Gothic arch. Only a few of the twigs meet 
in this way, however, so the roof is not really closed in, but is 
formed of a delicate open network or tracery. The ends of the 
twigs of which the sides of the bower are built are firmly inter- 
woven into a platform of sticks which forms the floor. The 
male bird is the chief worker, though his partner sometimes 
helps him a little in his task. 

When the building is finished, or perhaps even sooner, the 
birds turn their attention to the decoration, and in this they 
show a curious fancy. In the Gardens they use any bright- 
coloured objects which are supplied by their keeper, such as 
bits of wool, shreds of cloth, or scraps of paper, but in their 
native forests, where the bowers are found in remote spots 
imder the shelter of overhanging branches, they collect gaudy 
Parrots' feathers and dead leaves for the adornment of their 
playmg-ground. What they particularly fancy, however, are 

133 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

shells and the bleached bones of animals, which are sometimes 
found in great numbers at the entrance to the bower. In one 
bower, which was photographed by Mr. North, there were 
twelve pieces of wallabies' bones, three pieces of moss, a spray 
of acacia blossom, some eucalyptus cones, seven shells, and the 
egg-bag of a spider — as miscellaneous a collection of play- 
things as one would find in a small boy's pocket. The fact is, 
these Bower-birds are such inveterate collectors that they will 
appropriate almost any object of a suitable size that they come 
across, and this habit is so well known to the natives that when 
any small ornament or similar object is missing they make a 
point of going round first of all to all the bowers in the neigh- 
bourhood to look for it. Mr. Gould once found a stone 
tomahawk amongst the birds'* treasures, and in another instance 
the edifice was decked with a variety of blue woollen scraps 
which had no doubt been stolen from some neighbouring 
settlement. 

These objects are used as playthings as well as for the 
decoration of the bower, and even for the adornment of the 
male bird during courtship. There is very little doubt that all 
the playgrounds made by birds are in some way connected with 
com'tship, though they are used for amusement as well. That 
is what we should expect if we are right in believing that 
animal play of all kinds is really preparation or practice for 
the more serious business of their lives, for what is more im- 
portant to a bird than the winning of a mate ? We therefore 
find that there is courtship play just as there is hunting or 
fighting play, or nest-building play, or flying games. 

When the Bower-bird is wooing his lady he behaves in a very 
energetic manner. He chases her about, seizes a gay feather or 
a large leaf in his bill (no doubt to make himself more beauti- 
ful, just as a human wooer is sometimes known to put a flower 
in his buttonhole), utters a curious kind of note, ruffles his 
feathers, runs round the bower, and becomes so excited that his 
bright eyes seem almost to start out of his head. He opens 

134 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

first one wing and then the other, whistles, pretends to pick up 
something from the ground, and exercises every art which could 
possibly prove attractive to the lady of the bower, until at last 
she CRU no longer resist his allurements. 

The Spotted Bower-bird {Chlarnydodera maculata) is more 
ambitious in its architecture than the species which we have 
just described. Its arbour, like that of the Satin-bird, has the 
form of an avenue, but it is two or three feet long, and is built 
on a different principle. In the first place, instead of making 
a platform of sticks to support the walls, these birds, like our- 
selves, prefer underground foundations, and dig a trench on 
each side in which they plant the ends of their sticks, so as to 
form an arched walk. Then they line the walls with tall 
gi'asses so disposed that their heads nearly meet, and cleverly 
kept in their places by stones placed on the ends of the stems 
along the floor of the avenue. At each end the stones diverge 
from the entrance, so as to form a little path on either side. 
The Spotted Bower-birds are even more industrious collectors 
than the Satin-bird, for they accumulate as much as half a 
bushel of shells, stones, bones and skulls of small animals, and 
other objects, at each entrance to the bower. Mr. North dis- 
covered a bower in which the birds' originality and inventive 
genius had led them to construct a second arch over the 
middle of the first one by continuing the upward curve of the 
twigs, and the architects had added several Eley's cartridge- 
cases to their decorations. 

The birds visit the deserted camp-fires of the natives in 
search of bones and other "unconsidered trifles,"" but the 
smooth, round pebbles and some of the shells can only be 
obtained from rivers and streams, or from the sea-shore, and as 
these are often at a considerable distance from the bowers — in 
some cases several miles away — a great deal of labour must be 
spent on the collection. Mr. Lumholtz^ says : " There are fre- 
quently hundreds of shells, about three hundred in one heap 
^ Among Cannibals. 
135 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

and fifty in the other. There is also usually a handful of green 
berries partly inside and partly outside of the bower ; but like 
the empty shells and the other things collected, they are simply 
for amusement. . . . This bower-bird has another remarkable 
quality, in its wonderful power of imitating sounds. When it 
visits the farms, where it commits gi-eat depredations in the 
gardens, it soon learns to mew like a cat or to crow like a 
cock." 

The shells are not regarded by the birds merely as orna- 
ments ; they are true playthings, with which they amuse them- 
selves for hours at a time. The Great Bower-bird, for instance, 
picks up a shell from one heap and, carrying it in its beak, 
runs through the archway and adds it to the pile at the 
opposite end. It then chooses another shell from the second 
heap and hurries back with it, and so on, taking a shell from 
each side alternately and flitting to and fro through the 
bower. 

The handsome Regent Bower-bird {Sericulus vielmus), whose 
bower is very much like that of the Satin-bird, gives evidence 
of much artistic taste, using berries of several kinds and 
coloiu-s, young shoots of a pinkish tint, and freshly gathered 
leaves, for the adornment of its playhouse. The ground 
beside the bower is swept clear of leaves, and here the male 
bird has been seen jumping about, puffing out his feathers, 
rolling over, and indulging in all sorts of queer antics. Two 
other species, Sceyiopoeiis and Ailu7'oedios^ build no bower at all, 
but prepare an elaborate playground by first making a clearing 
six or eight feet wide, and then spreading over it a beautiful 
green carpet of leaves and grasses. Mr. Lumholtz describes 
how, on one of his excursions amidst the dense scrub on a 
mountain-top, his attention was attracted by the loud and un- 
ceasing voice of a bird. On approaching the spot whence the 
sound proceeded he found a modest little grey bird, about the 
size of a thrush, the Scenoposus dentirostris. The bird had 
been neatly arranging a number of large fresh leaves side by 

136 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

side on the black soil, and was singing happily over his work. 
As soon as the leaves fade they are replaced by new ones, so 
that the bird always has a nice bright carpet to play on. " On 
this excursion,'' Mr. Lumholtz writes, "I saw three such places of 
amusement, all near one another, and all had fresh leaves from 
the same kind of trees, while a large heap of dry, withered 
leaves was lying close by. It seems that the bird scrapes away 
the mould every time it changes the leaves, so as to have a 
dark background, against which the green leaves make a better 
appearance. Can any one doubt that this bird has the sense of 
beauty ? 

" The bird was quite common. Later on I frequently found 
it on the summit of the Coast Mountains in the large scrubs, 
which it never abandons. The natives call it gramma — that 
is, the thief — because it steals the leaves which it uses to play 
with." 

We have already seen that the taste of the several kinds of 
Bower -birds differs : one species collects the blue tail-feathers of 
Parrakeets, bleached bones, and shells ; another has a fondness 
for smooth pebbles and tall grasses ; some show a preference for 
large green leaves, and some for berries. But none show such 
a lively sense of the beautiful as the Gardener-birds, whose 
wonderful arbours and pleasure-grounds are perhaps the most 
marvellous examples of animal art. Mr. Wallace thought that 
there was no good reason for believing that birds take any 
delight in colour for its own sake ; according to his view, a 
Bower-bird would only rejoice in bright berries because they 
are often good to eat. But the Spotted Bower-bird and the 
Regent-bird collect berries merely to play with, to carry about, 
and to arrange and rearrange amongst the twigs of the bower ; 
and the case is even stronger in favour of the Gardener-birds, 
which gather not only berries, but bright orchids and other 
beautiful flowers, which they use in making for themselves 
lovely gardens with mossy lawns and the most delightful little 
summer-houses you could imagine. 

137 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

These fascinating birds live in New Guinea, where bright 
blossoms and brilliant berries are plentiful. We owe the 
earliest description of their fairy-like gardens to Dr. Beccari, 
an Italian naturalist. The species which he met with was the 
Gardener-bird known as Amblyornis inornata, and I think we 
had better let him tell us in his own words exactly what he 
saw, leaving out a little here and there because the account is 
rather long. 

He says : " I had just killed a small new species of Marsupial 
which balanced itself on the stem of a great tree like a Squirrel ; 
and turning round, I suddenly stood before a most remarkable 
specimen of the industry of an animal. It was a hut or 
bower close to a small meadow enamelled with flowers, on a 
diminutive scale. After well observing the whole, I gave strict 
orders to my hunters not to destroy the little building. That, 
however, was an unnecessary caution, since the Papuans take 
great care never to disturb these nests or bowers, even if they 
are in the way. 

" While I was there, neither host nor hostess were at 
home, and I could not wait for them. My hunters saw them 
going in and out, when they watched their movements to shoot 
them. I could not ascertain whether this bower was occupied 
by one pair, or by several pairs of birds — whether the male 
alone was the builder, or whether the wife assisted in the con- 
struction. I believe, however, that such a bower lasts for 
several seasons. 

" The Amblyornis selects a flat, even place around the trunk 
of a small tree, about as thick and as high as a medium-sized 
walking-stick. It begins by constructing at the base of the 
tree a kind of cone, chiefly of moss, of the size of a man's hand. 
The trunk of the tree becomes the central pillar, and the whole 
building is supported by it. On the top of the central pillar 
twigs are then methodically placed in a radiating manner rest- 
ing on the ground, leaving an aperture for the entrance ; thus 
is obtained a conical and very regular hut. When the work is 

138 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

complete many other branches are placed so as to make the 
whole quite firm and impermeable to wet. A circular gallery is 
left between the walls and the central cone, the whole bower 
being about three feet in diameter. All the stems used by the 
Amhlyornis are the thin sfems of an orchid forming large tufts 
on the mossy branches of great trees, easily bent like a straw, 
and generally about twenty inches long. The stalks had the 
leaves, which are small and straight, still fresh and living on 
them, which leads me to the conclusion that this plant was 
selected by the bird to prevent rotting and mould in the 
building, since it keeps alive for a long time. 

" The refined sense of the bird is not satisfied with building a 
hut. It is wonderful to find that it has the same ideas as a 
man ; that is to say, that what pleases the one gratifies the 
other. The passion for flowers and gardens is a sign of good 
taste and refinement. I discovered, however, that the inhabit- 
ants of Mount Arfak did not follow the example of the Amhly- 
ornisy for their houses were quite inaccessible from dirt. 

" Now let me describe the garden of Ajnhlyornis. Before the 
cottage there is a meadow of moss ; this is brought to the spot 
and kept free from grass, stones, or anything which would 
offend the eye. On this green turf, flowers and fruit of bright 
colours are placed so as to form a pretty little garden. The 
greater part of the decoration is collected round the entrance to 
the arbour ; and it would appear that the husband offers there 
his daily gifts to his wife. The objects are very various, but 
always of a vivid colour. There were some fruits like a small- 
sized apple ; others were of a deep yellow colour in the interior. 
I saw also small rosy fruits, and beautiful rosy flowers of a 
splendid new Vaccinium. There were also fungi and mottled 
insects placed on the turf. As soon as the objects are faded, 
they are moved to the back of the hut.'' 

The first specimens of the Gardener-bird which were described 
were all either hens or immature males, which are dull and 
' unadorned,' as the Latin name implies. It was not until 

139 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

twenty years afterwards, quite recently, when the adult male 
was discovered, that he was found to possess an enormous crest 
of brilliant orange ; he is still called by naturalists inornata, 
however, though his baptismal name, like that of many other 
bipeds, is particularly inappropriate. 

On the mountains at the opposite, that is to say the south- 
east, end of the island of New Guinea, other species of 
Gardener-birds have since been discovered, and in these also 
the females are unadorned and the males have beautiful crests. 
One of these birds is called Amblyornis musgravianud because it 
was found on Mount Musgrave. Like its relatives, it is a lively 
and keen-sighted bird and very shy, so that a great deal of 
patience is required to observe it at play. Mr. Goodwin 
describes its bower as being constructed of moss, in the form of 
a fountain-basin. The rim is about two feet high from the 
ground, but the cup is quite shallow, so that the bird can see 
what is going on in the neighbourhood while he is playing 
inside it. The mossy lining is beautifully smooth and even, 
and from the centre, where the jet of water would be in a real 
fountain, there springs a small tree on which the bird amuses 
himself by arranging twigs, uttering meanwhile the clear, sharp 
notes of his song. 

Dui'ing the return journey, while on Mount Belford, Mr. 
Goodwin tells us that the member of his party from whom that 
mountain takes its name brought into camp a different kind of 
Bower-bird, very similar to the Mount Musgrave bird, but 
smaller. It was a specimen of the Gardener-bird known as 
Amblyornis subalaris, and Mr. Goodwin did not leave the 
mountain until he had been to look at its playground. " At a 
short distance off," he tells us, " the bower from the back looks 
like a cartload of sticks rounded on the top. On going round 
to the front I saw the most beautiful building ever constructed 
by a bird, to which, however, my poor description cannot do 
justice. The edifice was dome-like, only half covered over, and 
exposed to view inside a ring or circus. In the centre of this 

140 




Play-house of a Gardener Bower-eird 

These birds {Amhlyornis subalaris) construct a beautiful domed hut around a small 
tree or shrub, which they interlace with twigs. At the foot of the tree, inside the hut, 
they build up a bank of moss and decorate it with flowers. In this pretty pavilion they 
spend many hours at play. 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

was built a bank of moss, decorated with flowers and seed, out 
of which grew a small tree interlaced with sticks. ... I was 
certainly well rewarded for my trouble on this occasion, and felt 
much indebted to Mr. Belford for having shown me the most 
interesting sight which I witnessed during the whole of the 
expedition."' 

The charming picture which Mr. Vanderlyn has made for us 
will give you a better idea than any description of what this 
wonderful playhouse is like. But to realise fully its beauty 
you must know that the floor is covered with a carpet of the 
greenest and most delicate moss ; you must imagine the bright- 
ness of the moss-covered pillar in the centre, gaily decorated 
with flowers ; and, finally, you must picture to yourself the 
bird's crest of shining gold, and the glittering wing-cases of 
beetles which he loves to have among his toys; and then I 
think that you will agree that the life of a bird which can make 
and possess such beautiful things must be very romantic indeed. 

One other Bower-bird we will mention, and then we must 
take leave of these fascinating creatures. For this, the Golden 
Bower-bird {Pr'ionodura neivto7iiand)^ we must return to Aus- 
tralia, where, in Queensland, he makes his home. No Bower- 
bird is more beautiful, and none more clever. He is clothed 
from head to tail in golden-coloured feathers, and bears on his 
head a broad crest of the same bright hue ; but his wife is 
garbed in sober plumage of olive-brown. The Lyre-bird is not 
a more accomplished mimic. He will croak like a tree-frog ; he 
will utter a low, soft, musical whistle with the most pathetic 
air ; and then he will break into an astonishing variety enter- 
tainment in which he gives imitations of all his neighbours. 
But his skill is not confined to one of the arts, for not even the 
beautiful gardens and pavilions of the New Guinea Gardener- 
bird are more remarkable than the elaborate pleasure-grounds 
which these Queensland birds prepare. 

Around two trees, or a tree and a bush, they begin by erect- 
ing huge piles of sticks, heaping them up in the form of a cone 

141 



PLAYGROUNDS AND PAVILIONS 

or pyramid to a man's height. These stick pyramids are four 
or five feet apart, and one of them is always considerably 
higher that the other. The birds then fetch from the surround- 
ing scrub long pieces of the thin, flexible stems of creepers, and 
trail them from one heap of sticks to the other, in such quan- 
tities that at last the two pillars are converted into a great 
archway. The builders next turn their attention to the decora- 
tions. In the woods they gather tufts of white moss which they 
fix all over the pillars and roof of the structure, and last of all, 
bunches of green berries, like wild grapes, which are hung 
in clusters from the top. But still they are not satisfied, for all 
around their great bower they make little huts by bending 
together the strong stems of standing grass and roofing them 
over with a flat thatch of slender twigs, until at last the 
pleasure-ground looks exactly like a miniature model of a native 
camp with a beautiful triumphal arch in the middle. 

Birds of all ages and both sexes resort to this place of amuse- 
ment. Young and old, male and female, they pursue each 
other in and out of the grassy huts and through and over the 
archway, playing merrily to their hearts' content. 



142 



CHAPTER IX 
COURTSHIP 

Excess of bachelors amongst birds, and its results — Arts of peace — Singing 
for a mate — The meaning of song— Song and dance— Instrumental music 
— The drumming of Snipes — Courtship flights— The dalliance of Eagles — 
Antics of Game-birds — The indifference of hens — Bustards in Spain — 
Coyness and provocation — Feminine boldness : the Northern Phaiarope 
— Good-humoured rivalry : the Flickers. 

IF we are sufficiently observant we may find something to 
interest us in the habits of birds at all times ; or at all 
events in the ways of wild birds, for it must be admitted 
that birds in captivity often lose a great deal of their spirit and 
energy because they are deprived of both the necessity and the 
opportunity of exercising their natural powers. In the case of 
the more precocious birds, such as the common Fowl, the first 
days of life after they have escaped from the egg are, I incline 
to think, usually the most interesting and wonderful of all ; but 
speaking of birds in general there are two periods which par- 
ticularly attract attention. These are the time of wooing and, 
a little later, the time when the care of a young family absorbs 
all the energies of the attentive parents. As a rule it is the 
female who is seen at her best in bringing up the brood, and 
the male during courtship, but it must not be supposed that this 
is so in all cases. 

Nature is very wise, and no male bird remains a bachelor if he 
can avoid it, nor does any female long despise the attentions of 
a worthy suitor. But so far as we are able to judge, there are 
more males than females in bird society, with the result that while 
every hen almost certainly obtains a mate, great numbers of 

143 



COURTSHIP 

cock-birds fail to do so. Even amongst birds, therefore, the 
privilege of winning a wife is not to be attained without some 
individual merit, and often not without strife. 

The methods by which the male bird woos her whom he 
wishes to make his partner are many, and very different amongst 
the various classes of birds. What we usually find is, that 
whatever a particular kind of bird excels in at ordinary times, 
he does especially well when he is couii:ing, and employs as a 
means of winning the object of his desires. He exercises to 
the utmost every charm, and tries to exhibit himself in the best 
light in order to rival his fellows. The older he is, and the more 
experienced, the more skilful and confident he becomes in his 
wooing ; his energy and determination increase with his skill in 
practising the arts of his kind, and with them his success as a 
wooer increases. 

As the season of love approaches, the song-bird practises his 
notes and perfects his song ; he sings his loudest and sweetest — 
or if his voice be not sweet, his harshest and hoarsest — but 
always, no doubt, according to the taste of the species to which 
he belongs, his best. It is the song-bird which can most afford 
to rely on the exercise of art to gain a mate. Other birds, far 
more than he, must wander from place to place seeking her, but 
a song-bird will perch where he can be heard to the best 
advantage and endeavour to attract her from afar with passion- 
ate melody. He expresses all his spirit and strength and long- 
ing in song, and when at last the female answers the call, his 
joy and exultation. In song he invites her to come to him, and 
dares any other male within hearing to enter into rivaby with 
him. He is pleading, imperious, persuasive, boastful, triumphant. 

True song ought perhaps to be distinguished from the call- 
notes, danger-signals, cries of alarm or challenge and defiance, 
and so forth, which are uttered by birds, though it is some- 
times difficult to say exactly what is song and what is not. The 
ciy of the Cuckoo, for example, is not song in the nan-ow sense ; 
but as it is a call-note to attrac t a mate it is a part of the bird's 

144 



COURTSHIP 

courtship. It is never uttered except during the pairing 
season. 

Darwin considered that bird- song originated as a method of 
courtship, and he was probably right, though some naturalists 
think he was mistaken. They point out that many birds sing 
long before and long after the mating season, at times when 
there is no thought of courtship ; but that does not prove 
that the original object of song was not to win a mate, any 
more than the fact that birds fly when there is no necessity for 
them to do so, either to seek food or to escape an enemy, proves 
that those were not the causes in which flight originated. 

All the higher animals do things in play which they are not 
obliged to do at the time, but which are at some time or other 
necessary for their existence, and they enjoy performing these 
actions. So many birds practise singing, and take pleasure in 
it, at times when song is not of any particular immediate use to 
them. The Redbreast and the Wren are familiar examples of 
birds that sing all the year round except during hard frost and 
at the time of moulting. But the consummate master of song, 
the Nightingale, loses his singing voice as soon as his chicks are 
hatched ; the passionate melody which thrilled us while he was 
courting his mate and entertaining her at the time of brooding 
is exchanged for a guttural croak of alarm and anxiety, and if 
all go well he sings no more until the following spring. If all go 
well, we say ; for it is a remarkable fact that if any accident 
deprive him of nest or little ones at this early time, he once 
more recovers his singing voice and so charms his mate that she 
is content to undertake again the toil of building a new nest 
and to endure the weariness of brooding once more ; and that 
surely teaches us the true original purpose and meaning of song. 
There are those who believe that a bird's song is merely an 
expression of his superfluous vitality and enjoyment of life; but 
though joyousness, and other emotions too, do find utterance 
in melody, we must still consider song as being chiefly and pre- 
eminently an act of courtship. 

K 145 



COURTSHIP 

Sometimes several males will sing in rivalry for the favour of 
the same female. Skylarks often do so. These birds pair in 
early spring, when the cold March winds are drying up the 
broad, open lands where they love to make their nests, and the 
first flowers are beginning to make the hedgerows bright with 
colour. Frequently at this time a female may be seen flying 
swiftly through the air pursued by several males, who toy with 
her, flutter round her, and burst into snatches of joyous song. 
Hither and thither they dart, until at last she takes refuge in 
the herbage and crouches low. Soon she is discovered by one of 
her suitors, who hovers above her singing sweetly, or alights and 
runs before her with raised crest, trying in various ways to win 
her favour. Again she takes wing, and the pursuit is renewed 
in the same playful, joyous manner. Sometimes a male actively 
resents the presence of rivals, and they begin to chase each 
other until, perhaps, the arts of peace give place to active warfare 
and the strongest and boldest remains in possession of the field. 

It has been noticed that some of our songsters, of which the 
Redbreast is one, at certain moments in their wooing, exchange 
their loud, clear, rippling song for low, vibrating notes which 
can scarcely be heard a few yards away. This whispered melody 
is uttered only when the mate is perched close by, and is usually 
accompanied by bowing and posturing, or by quick little danc- 
ing steps. 

Unlike the Skylark, most of our true melodists sit still on 
their perch while singing ; but among foreign birds there are 
many whose courtship song is accompanied by antics, though it 
is seldom that the song of such birds is remarkable for its sweet- 
ness. Many of the family of American birds which are com- 
monly known as Troupials and Grackles, Starling-like birds 
with some of the character of our Buntings, indulge in such 
antics, and especially the Cowpen-birds, whose courtship habits 
have been described by Mr. Hudson. The male Screaming 
Cow-bird of La Plata puffs out his plumage like a strutting 
Turkey-cock and hops briskly up and down his perch in a lively 

146 



COURTSHIP 

dance, with wings and tail spread out and trailing low, while he 
utters a hollow-sounding note which ends in a sharp bell-like 
ring. The female replies with an excited scream, and the dance 
ends. The common Cow-bird, which has rich violet plumage, 
pufFs out his glossy feathers and rapidly flutters his wings 
during his song, which begins on a series of deep internal 
sounds followed by clear, ringing, musical notes. He then 
suddenly leaves his perch and flutters away over the ground like 
a huge moth for twenty or thirty yards, when he turns aside 
and circles round the female, singing loudly all the time and 
" hedging her in with melody." 

Birds which have no singing voice use such vocal powers as 
they may possess with equal efl'ect in their wooing. The Great 
Black-backed Gull {Larus marinus) fills the air with his harsh, 
laughing cries when the flocks assemble in the early summer, 
until the rocks echo again, and no doubt impresses his mate as 
much by his furious shouting — if we may use the word in 
speaking of a bird — as by his more or less graceful bowing as 
he swims around her. Even the male Swan manages to croon a 
little love-song of a sort. With wings expanded and head 
held proudly erect, he places himself opposite his mate and 
utters a curious little double note, the first part of which is 
very short and glides into the second part, a semitone higher. 
The female responds with a similar cry half a note lower. 
Fortunately they do not both sing at the same time ! 

The birds which do not excel as vocalists, but produce what 
Darwin referred to as instrumental music, practise their art 
with great vigour at the season of pairing. The Snipe 'drums'* 
his loudest; the Nuthatch makes such a clatter with his bill 
against a dead bough that he can be heard two or three hundred 
yards oiF; the Woodpecker hammers with all his might ; and 
the clapping of the Stork can be heard when the bird himself is 
so far away as to be invisible. Other birds produce all kinds of 
strange noises by means of their quill feathers or by beating 
with their wings. 

147 



COURTSHIP 

The ' drumming ' or ' bleating ' of the Snipe was long a 
puzzle to naturalists and sportsmen, for nobody could explain 
satisfactorily how the sound was produced. The bird flies to a 
great height, and after zigzagging about for a little while 
descends to earth at a terrific speed, with tail outspread and 
wings a-quiver ; and it is then that the strange humming sound 
is heard. During the descent the two outer tail-feathers are 
spread out beyond the rest. These feathers are of a peculiar 
shape, and it has been ascertained that if they be fixed firmly in 
a cork, attached to a short stick on the end of a string, and 
whirled round, a typical ' drumming ' is produced. There is no 
doubt that in the living bird it is similarly caused by rapid 
movement of these feathers through the air during the earth- 
ward plunge. While giving this instrumental performance the 
bird utters calls which sound like tinker, tinker, tinker, and is 
answered by a quick little djepp, djepp, djepp in a different 
key. 

The Double or Solitary Snipe {Scolopax major), which visits 
Great Britain in small numbers every autumn, drums while on 
the ground by throwing back its head almost on to its back 
and rapidly opening and shutting its beak like a Stork, the 
result being a noise which resembles that caused by running 
one's finger along the edge of a comb. 

Certain small perching birds of South America called Mana- 
kins have some of the secondary wing-feathers in the male of 
an extraordinary form, with a solid horny lump on the shaft, 
and give remarkable instrumental performances. One species, 
Manacus candcei, begins with a sharp sound like the crack of a 
whip, following it up with a harsh rattle like the turn of a key 
when winding a clock. Rattle and snap and whirr and whizz 
are variously combined in the courtship of other members of 
this curious family, till it seems hardly possible that so much 
noise can be produced by birds so small. 

Another South American bird, one of the Guans {Penelope), 
rushes down through the air with outstretched wings, which give 



COURTSHIP 

forth a crashing sound like the falling of a tree. The Guans 
are Game-birds : other members of the order produce curious 
sounds in various ways— by striking their wings together or 
violently beating the air with them, and so on. 

For the present we will leave the musicians, both vocal and 
instrumental, and consider how the birds which are especially 
remarkable for their powers of flight conduct their courtship. 
Foremost amongst these are the Birds-of-Prey, nearly all of 
which, except Owls and some Falcons, join with their mates in 
wonderful aerial dances. Eagles, Peregrines, Kestrels, and 
Buzzards circle round and round each other and ring up to the 
sky, where they perform marvellous tricks of flight, whirling in 
their giddy course for hours at a time until, having sufficiently 
displayed the power of wing which is so important to them in 
making provision for a hungry family, they glide to a perch 
and practise other arts. But they are never so majestic as 
when in flight, and even the mighty Condor looks an awkward 
creature when, his head bowed and wings spread wide, he hops 
round his mate with clumsy little steps, making strange mur- 
muring sounds. 

The courtship flight of a pair of Eagles has often been 
described. Brehm, writing of the Bateleur Eagle of Africa, 
speaks of it as " an incomparable mountebank performance in 
the air, a bewildering acrobatic display, which seems to unite in 
itself all the arts of flight practised by all the other Birds-of- 
Prey." Perhaps we get the finest picture of all in Walt 
Whitman's description of the dalliance of Eagles "high in 
space together" — 

The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel. 
Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling. 
In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling. 
Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment^s lull, 
A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing. 
Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse 

flight. 
She hers, he his, pursuing. 

149 



COURTSHIP 

Reading it, we can almost hear *'the sudden muffled sound '■* 
and see the mad, tumultuous, downward rush, arrested at the 
very moment when it seems that both birds must inevitably be 
plunged together into the river below. 

The smaller Birds-of-Prey are hardly less wonderful in their 
gambols. Watch a pair of Harriers starting on such a flight. 
It begins tamely enough, the female flying on ahead as though 
quite unconscious that she is attended, followed by the male, 
who appears to be only half willing to escort her. But in a 
moment all that changes. He dashes forward, overtakes her, 
sweeps round and round, and then deliberately turns his back 
upon her and soars to the clouds on hurrying pinions. Sud- 
denly, at a great height, he turns right over and with folded 
wings shoots head downwards, like an arrow, towards his com- 
panion. His wings fly open again, and once more he is dashing 
round and round her, carried on by the tremendous speed of 
that plunge from the clouds. At last she can resist the invita- 
tion no longer ; her unresponsive mood is past, and she joins 
merrily in his gambols. 

Other birds less powerful in flight than the Birds-of-Prey, but 
some of them hardly less skilful, feel the same impulse to use 
their wings in courtship. The Swallow who has been perched 
close beside his mate warbling his faint little song suddenly 
leaves his perch and, followed at once by the female, dashes off" 
with her in a mazy flight, singing as he goes. Or at dusk, 
when the Nightjar makes his strange, whirring sounds as he 
crouches lengthwise on a bough, his mate comes to his calling, 
and together they dance through the air in beautiful curves. 

The cries produced by members of the Nightjar family are 
very curious. In America the best known of these cries is the 
'' ivhip-poor-wilV uttered by the bird of that name. Captain 
Bendire, in his book on North American birds, tells how he 
witnessed a most amusing performance of a pair of Whip- 
poor-wills whose trysting-place was a heap of sand just beside 
an outhouse. One evening when he happened to be in the 

150 



COURTSHIP 

shed soon after sundown his attention was attracted by the 
familiar Whip-poor-will cry uttered quite close at hand. 
Peering through a small opening, he saw the bird waddling 
over the sand-heap in an excited manner, so much interested in 
its own vocal performance that it did not discover it was being 
watched. The call was repeated with such rapidity that the 
sound issued from the bird's great gaping mouth almost in one 
continuous roll. In a few seconds another bird appeared and 
joined the first ; the new arrival was a female, and she at once 
lowered her head and answered the impatient calling with a low 
'' gaw-gaw-gaw'''' of endearment. The male sidled up to her 
and for a moment their bills touched ; but then she began to 
move slowly aside, followed closely by her mate. Presently, 
however, the movement was reversed — he became coy, and she 
followed ; and so on, from minute to minute, bold and coy by 
turns, until the house-dog, an inveterate enemy of all Whip- 
poor-wills, appeared on the scene and put the lovers to flight. 
On subsequent evenings they did not arrive so early and so were 
not seen again, though fresh tracks in the sand showed that 
they continued to make the same spot their place of meeting. 

The courtship dances are often wild, ecstatic performances 
accompanied by strange sounds, and ending in a mad whirl in 
concert or in a transport of excitement which makes the birds 
oblivious to what is taking place around them. 

The Game-birds are the most famous of bird-dancers, and 
nearly all of them perform some antics or other from time to 
time. Even in the poultry-yard we see the Cock showing oiF 
before his wives, strutting proudly hither and thither, crowing 
and flapping his wings. The Turkey is a more finished per- 
former ; as he dances about with tail widely spread and trailing 
wings he appears the very personification of conscious pride, 
though in this respect he is far surpassed by the Peacock. The 
way in which a Peacock approaches his lady-love is peculiar. 
Placing himself at some distance from her, he erects his train 
in a gorgeous fan and then, seizing a favourable opportunity, 

151 



COURTSHIP 

rushes towards her backwards until, arrived within a foot or so, 
he suddenly whirls round and tries to overwhelm her with the 
glory of his plumage. His display, however, is not received 
with any obvious signs of admiration ; on the contrary, the 
modest hen remains conspicuously indifferent, or appears so, 
even when the sudden transformation is emphasised by an ear- 
splitting scream. Both Peacock and Turkey produce music of 
the instrumental kind during their performance, the Turkey 
by scraping his quills along the ground, the Peacock by 
rattling his together, with a sound like the pattering of rain on 
leaves, as he turns towards his partner. 

The courtship of Reinhardfs Ptarmigan {Lagopus rupestris 
reinhardti) of Greenland and Labrador is a very eccentric per- 
formance. Having discovered an eligible partner, he begins to 
run around her with tail spread and trailing wings ; as his 
ardour increases he ruffles every feather of his body and, with 
outstretched neck and breast pressing upon the ground, thrusts 
himself along, uttering a curious growling sound. He writhes 
and twists his neck about in a wonderful manner, and at last in 
his excitement performs the most astonishing antics, leaping 
in the air with extraordinary vigour, and even rolling over and 
over. 

Behaviour quite so violent as this is rare, but grotesque 
postures and contortions are seen in many species, especially in 
those which have some peculiar decoration to display. Such 
birds are immediately prompted to put themselves into the 
most showy attitude by the presence of the female or a rival, 
or even that of a stranger. Crests and plumes are raised, wings 
or tail spread, and various other means adopted to make any 
striking feature as conspicuous as possible. The result some- 
times appears to us ridiculous in the extreme, but there is little 
doubt that the female is, as a rule, much impressed by the 
display of so much finery. 

Occasionally, however, she seems to be singularly indifferent 
to the personal charms of her wooer, be they displayed never 

152 




Peafowls 

In their native haunts in India and Ceylon scores of peacocks may occasionally 
be seen perching together in high trees, and producing a wonderful blaze of gorgeous 
colour. The peacock's true tail is rather short, and is quite hidden except during 
display, when it maj- be seen from behind, helping to support the outspread train 
feathers. 



COURTSHIP 

so bravely. You may frequently observe this amongst domestic 
Pigeons. Watch a group of these birds picking up grain 
which has been scattered for them upon the ground ; it is very 
likely that before long you will see a handsome cock-bird begin 
to pay couii; to a sober-looking hen. He puffs out his breast 
and throat to make himself look imposing and to display the 
glossy iridescent feathers to the best advantage ; meanwhile he 
coos softly and bows time after time to the quiet little hen, 
running after her with quick steps and doing his very best to 
attract her attention. She for her part seems quite indifferent ; 
she is far too busy picking up grains of food to trouble about 
the fussy courtier ; she seems to show by her attitude that she 
thinks him a tiresome fellow, and cannot be bothered ; and will 
he please go away ? But he is far from being discouraged, and 
at last she runs forward a few steps to escape persecution ; but 
he makes a flank movement, runs round in a little quarter-circle, 
and is once more in front of her, bowing, cooing, trailing his 
outspread tail along the ground, and using all his arts with un- 
diminished zeal. It is most often in the spring and summer 
that one may «ee Pigeons behaving in this manner, but quite 
recently, in a London street, I observed the same little comedy 
being enacted amidst heavy rain in the middle of December. 
Neither the storm nor the season could affect the wooer^s 
devotion. 

A few years ago, when in Spain, in the neighbourhood of 
Seville, I was even more impressed by the efforts of a male bird 
to make himself attractive while the female remained absolutely 
unmoved. On a broad, open tract of cultivated land, less than 
half a mile from the road, a number of large birds were quietly 
feeding. With the aid of glasses I was able to make out that 
it was a small party of Bustards — the Great Bustard {Otis 
tarda\ which used, long ago, to frequent the downs, wolds, and 
plains in England, but which has now been extinct as a 
native species for about three-quarters of a century. Perhaps 
it was never very common here, though there are records of it 

153 



COURTSHIP 

having been at one time hunted with greyhounds on Newmarket 
Heath. Even in the sixteenth century, however, when Bustards 
were a favourite dish at gi'eat feasts, they were considered articles 
of special luxury and ranked in value with such birds as Swans 
and Cranes. But in Spain they are still fairly common, and 
great was my delight at having an opportunity of watching 
them in their wild state. 

The party consisted of foui' females and a male. The hen 
Bustard is considerably smaller than the cock, which is a fine 
bird, between three and four feet in length from the tip of the 
bill to the end of the tail, and has a very stately and con- 
spicuous appearance on the open country which he fi-equents. 
His colour is not very remarkable, pale grey and white pre- 
dominating ; but the back is beautifully barred with russet and 
black, and dming the springtime a band of deep tawny brown 
sweeps down from either shoulder over the breast. His general 
aspect is made more striking by a beard of slender greyish- 
white feathers which spring out stiffly on either side of the chin. 
While I was observing the little group of birds, the male left 
off feeding and presently, after strutting to and fro for a short 
time, with head and tail both held proudly erect, he placed him- 
self in the very remarkable attitude adopted by these birds 
when ' showing off.' The breast and upper part of the throat 
are puffed out to their utmost extent ; at the same time the 
head is drawn far back and buried between the shoulders, while 
the tail is turned forwards flat upon the back, until iiead and 
tail almost meet between the wings. The wings themselves are 
then di^ooped from the shoulder, the ends of the long flight 
feathers are hitched up on the back across the tail, while 
the shorter feathers turn stiffly upwards and almost completely 
hide the head, the ' beard ' alone being seen standing smartly 
up between them. The result of all these curious contortions 
is to display to the fullest extent the white feathers of the 
upper part of the wings and those under the tail. 

In this strange posture my Bustard strutted up and do^Ti 
154 



COURTSHIP 

before his wives for fully five minutes, but not one of them paid 
any attention to his performance or allowed herself to be 
diverted from her immediate occupation of feeding. At the end 
of that time he seemed suddenly to decide that perhaps they 
were right, after all, and that in any case it was not much use 
trying to show them what a very fine figure of a bird he was if 
none would admire him, for his head came up with a jerk, his 
wings were folded close to his body again, his breast gently sub- 
sided, and resuming his ordinary appearance he began once 
more quietly feeding with the others. 

Bustards are very wary birds and it is exceedingly difficult to 
get quite near to them, but like many other w^ild creatures they 
appear to have a curious power of discrimination, so that while 
a sportsman carrying a gun may find it impossible to get with- 
in range of them, they do not so readily take alarm at the 
passage of an ordinary wayfarer. 

A smaller kind of Bustard known as the Florikin {Sypheotis 
hengalensis), which is one of the most valued Game-birds in all 
parts of India, where it is frequently killed during a tiger- 
hunt and is occasionally taken by the help of the Falcon, is 
known to adopt somewhat unusual and remarkable tactics to 
attract a mate. The male bird rises, with hurried flapping of 
the wings, straight up into the air, pausing from time to time 
for a few seconds and then flying a little higher. While doing 
this he raises his crest, puffs out his neck, and makes a peculiar 
kind of humming noise. The performance is repeated several 
times until a hen obeys the summons and approaches from the 
thick grass, where they live apart. On her arrival he begins to 
entertain her by showing off in much the same manner as a 
Turkey-cock. The male Willow-Grouse in North America 
practises similar flights ; his call, however, is often accepted as 
a challenge by some rival male, and fierce combats follow. 

A very large number of birds puff out their feathers when 
courting in order to make themselves appear as big and im- 
portant as possible ; even the tiny Blue Titmouse swells himself 

155 



COURTSHIP 

out to almost twice his usual size in the intervals of sailing 
from the top of one slender spray to another amongst the trees 
and bushes — a method of flight quite different from his 
ordinary movement from place to place — when dallying with 
his mate. 

We have seen that it is not unusual for the female to receive 
the attentions of her wooer at first with apparent indiffer- 
ence, if not annoyance. In some cases she at length appears 
slowly to become aware of his existence, to display a sort of 
languid interest in his proceedings, to be willing to listen, 
without prejudice, to what he has to say, to spare a moment for 
a critical glance at his antics. Sometimes on hearing the sound 
of a performing male she may even deign to approach and stand 
by, hidden in the bushes, an interested spectator; she may utter 
little cries — perhaps her way of saying "Bravo!" — to incite him 
to further efforts, and may eventually, without reserve, seek his 
company. 

In other cases, however, she is more coy and takes to flight — 
whether in earnest or not, who can say ? Though her retreat 
be swift and energetic at first, it is often continued with little 
persistence, and it seems as if she wished to be overtaken. 

Dr. Groos says : " The female Cuckoo answers the call of her 
mate with an alluring laugh that excites him to the utmost, 
but it is long before she gives herself up to him. A mad chase 
through the tree tops ensues, during which she constantly 
incites him with that mocking call, till the poor fellow is fairly 
driven crazy. The female Kingfisher often torments her 
devoted lover for half a day, coming and calling him, and 
then taking to flight. But she never lets him out of her sight 
the while, looking back as she flies and measuring her speed, 
and wheeling back when he suddenly gives up the pursuit. 
The Bower-bird leads her mate a chase up and down their 
skilfully built pleasure-house, and many other birds behave in 
a similar way. The male must exercise all his arts . . . before her 
reluctance is overcome. She leads him on from limb to limb, 

156 



COURTSHIP 

from tree to tree, constantly eluding his eager pursuit until it 
seems that the tantalising change from allurement to resistance 
must include an element of mischievous playfulness." 

There are birds, however, amongst which the hens are so far 
from being coy and retiring that they are actually the ones who 
make all the advances in courtship. In such cases we find that, 
contrary to what is the general rule amongst birds, the hen is 
the finer and better looking of the pair. As an example of 
these we will take the Phalaropes. 

The Phalaropes are wading birds, and they nest in the 
Arctic regions, where they are extremely tame. In many 
species of waders — perhaps in all — the hen-bird is dis- 
tinguished by her larger size and longer bill, but her superiority 
seldom extends to plumage. Among the Phalaropes, however, 
the females are not only larger, but brighter in colour than 
their partners, and in accordance with the general custom 
amongst birds in such cases they take the lead in courtship. 
Here is the interesting account of their proceedings given by 
Mr. E. W. Nelson, the well-known American field naturalist, 
who observed the Red-necked or Northern Phalarope (Phala- 
ropus hyperho7'eus) in Alaska. 

" As summer approaches on the Arctic shores and the coast 
of Bering Sea, the numberless pools, until now hidden under 
a snowy covering, become bordered or covered with water ; the 
mud about their edges begins to soften, and through the water 
the melting ice at the bottom looks pale green. The Ducks 
and the Geese fill the air with their loud resounding cries, and 
the rapid wing-strokes of arriving and departing flocks add a 
heavy bass to the chorus which greets the opening of another 
glad season in the wilds of the cheerless north. Amid this 
loud-tongued multitude suddenly appears the graceful, fairy- 
like form of the Northern Phalarope. Perhaps, as the hunter 
sits by the border of a secluded pool still half covered with 
snow and ice, a pair of slight wings flit before him, and there, 
riding on the water, scarcely making a ripple, floats this charm - 

157 



COURTSHIP 

ing and elegant bird. It glides hither and thither on the 
water, apparently drifted by its fancy, and skims about the 
pool like an autumn leaf wafted before the playful zephyrs on 
some embosomed lakelet in the forest. The delicate tints and 
slender, fragile form, combining grace of colour and outline 
with a peculiarly dainty elegance of motion, render this the 
most lovely and attractive bird amongst its handsome con- 
geners. 

"... In the last few days of May and June they are on 
hand in full force and ready to set about the season's cares. 
Every pool now has from one to several pairs of these birds. . . . 
The female ... is much more richly coloured than the male, 
and possesses all the ' rights ' demanded by the most radical 
reformers. As the season comes on . . . the dull- coloured male 
moves about the pool apparently heedless of the surrounding 
females. Such stoical indifference usually appears too much for 
the feelings of some of the fair ones to bear. A female coyly 
glides close to him and bows her head in pretty submissiveness, 
but he turns away, pecks at a bit of food and moves off; she 
follows, and he quickens his speed, but in vain ; he is her choice, 
and she proudly arches her neck, and in many circles passes 
and repasses close before the harassed bachelor. He turns his 
breast first to one side, then to the other, as though to escape, 
but there is his gentle wooer ever pressing her suit before him. 
Frequently he takes flight to another part of the pool, but all 
to no purpose. If with affected indifference he tries to feed, 
she swims along side by side, almost touching him, and at 
intervals rises on wing above him, and, poised a foot or two 
over his back, makes a half-dozen quick, sharp wing-strokes, 
producing a series of sharp, whistling noises in rapid succession. 

"In the course of time it is said that water will wear the 
hardest rock, and it is certain that time and importunity have 
their full effect upon the male of this Phalarope, and soon 
all are comfortably married. . . . About June 1 the dry, 
rounded side of a little knoll, near some small pond, has four 

158 



COURTSHIP 

dark, heavily marked eggs laid in a slight hollow, upon what- 
ever lining the spot affords, or, more rarely, upon a few dry 
straws and grass-blades, brought and loosely laid together by 
the birds. Here the captive male is introduced to his new 
duties, and spends half his time on the eggs, while the female 
keeps about the pool close by. In due time the young are 
hatched and come forth, beautiful little balls of buff and 
brown. " 

With the more pugnacious birds, such as the Willow-Grouse, 
courtship and battle often go together ; but many species are 
quite good-natured and peaceful in their rivalry — none more so, 
perhaps, than that common and conspicuous North American 
bird, the Golden-winged Woodpecker or Flicker {Colaptes 
auratus). This bird always seems to be on the best of terms with 
its neighbours, even when courting, and the sight of a couple of 
males paying their addresses to the same female is one of the 
most amusing comedies in bird-life. Their apparent shyness as 
they sidle up to her and hurriedly retire again, their queer little 
games of bo-peep as they slyly watch one another's advances 
from the shelter of some convenient limb of the tree, are 
exceedingly comic, and when at last the choice is made, the 
unsuccessful suitor retreats with dignity, taking his defeat quite 
philosophically, and no doubt enters into an equally friendly 
contest elsewhere. 

Many chapters might be written on this fascinating theme of 
the courtship of birds, for the subject is almost inexhaustible 
and the methods adopted are of endless variety. As elsewhere 
in the animal kingdom, so amongst birds, love and war often 
go together ; it will be convenient, therefore, if we next take a 
glance at some of the many ways in which they fight their 
battles. 



159 



CHAPTER X 
FIGHTING 

"Weapons: beaks, claws, spurs, 'knobs,' wings, and wing -spurs — Pug- 
nacity of Game-birds — Protective colouration : a digression — Tourna- 
ments — Fighting-cocks — A race of Amazons : the Bustard-Quails — 
Moral effect of victory — Kickers — The • Fighting Ruffs ' — Wing-spurs as 
weapons — '*The Faithful Jacana " — Some familiar examples— Dabchick 
versus Swan — Family feuds of Moorhens — Battles in the air — Peace- 
makers. 

THOUGH many birds go thi^ough life •• as gently as any 
sucking dove.'' appearing to be always on amicable terms 
with their fellows, and, Hke the Flicker described in the 
last chapter, friendly even in their rivalry, it must be admitted 
that others are by no means of a peaceful disposition, and not a 
few are as eager for a fight as an Irishman at a fair. 

There is almost as much difference in the methods of fight- 
ing adopted by the various species as there is in their behaviour 
during courtship, their manner of feeding, or the way in which 
they perform other important actions and duties. As a great 
deal depends upon the weapons with which a bird is endowed, 
it will perhaps be well to consider these first of all. 

As a rule, bill, feet, and wings all plaj their part in bird 
battles, though in difierent degi'ees. Amongst such birds as 
Crows, StarHngs, Larks, and Finches^ — all those, in fact, which are 
known as Passerines — the bill is the chief weapon of oiFence ; but 
the wings also are employed for buffeting the adversary; the 
feet are used mainly to hold or guard. In many of these birds, 
however, the beak is not a very dangerous weapon, and they are 
not able to inflict really serious injury in their quarrels. In 
others it is far more terrible, and can be used to give powerful 

1 60 



FIGHTING 

strokes with the swiftness of a snake striking its prey. I 
remember on one occasion seeing a visitor at the ' Zoo ' insert 
a finger through the wires of the pen where the Ravens are kept. 
Before he could be warned of the danger he drew back with a 
cry of pain, having received an ugly wound from a sharp peck 
administered by one of the birds. Parrots, too, can inflict 
severe punishment with their formidable bills ; and during the 
famous Challenger expedition, several members learnt by ex- 
perience that it was not safe to go amongst the Penguins in one 
of the vast ' rookeries ' without good stout gaiters to protect 
their legs. 

Claws can be as formidable as beaks — more so, indeed, 
for they are the weapons of Birds-of-Prey, some of which 
can tear asunder large snakes or break the neck of a young 
antelope by mere strength of foot. The Harpy Eagle 
(Thrasa'etus harpyia) of America is said to be able to seize a 
cat fore and aft and tear it asunder. Where a dangerous claw 
arms the foot of a heavy bird, which can not only kick with 
considerable force, but is a good leaper, as in the case of the 
Cassowary, it is wise to treat its possessor with respect. 

Other birds rely chiefly on their wings when fighting — not for 
the purpose of escape, but as offensive weapons. There are 
many stories of broken arms and similar injuries resulting 
from the blow of a Swan's wing, but I think there is consider- 
able doubt as to their truth. Yet although they may not be 
able to break a limb, it is quite certain that Swans can deliver 
very severe blows with their wings, and so can Geese. In many 
birds the wings are armed with knobs, which add to their 
effectiveness as weapons. 

The ordinary position for spurs, however, is of course at the 
back of the foot, higher up than the 'toes,' and they are 
the most deadly weapons possessed by birds, except the talons 
of a Bird-of-Prey. They are only found in the Pheasant 
family, and are, as far as I know, seen at their best in the 
Jungle-Fowl (which is the ancestor of our domestic poultry), 
L i6i 



FIGHTING 

and in their descendants, the Game-cocks. The spurs, which 
are bony growths covered with a horny sheath, and so resemble 
the horns of cattle and antelopes, are often very long and 
sharp. Some birds — for instance, the Double-spurred Peacock 
— have two on each foot, a few have three, and the Blood- 
Pheasant has as many as four or five. Only cock-birds have 
the spurs well developed, though in the Indian Spur-Fowl 
{Galloperdix) even the hens possess two or three pairs. 

Sometimes a knob takes the place of a spur ; this is so in the 
French Partridge, and some Guinea Ft)wls possess several such 
knobs. 

The most determined fighters are undoubtedly found 
amongst the Game-birds, especially at the season of pairing. 
At that time the males of many species are extraordinarily 
pugnacious, and seem to be not only always ready for a fight, 
but constantly on the look out for an opponent, doing their 
very best to attract a rival and to challenge him to combat. It 
is well known that two cock Pheasants will not endure each 
other's presence in one small drive, and that they fight duels 
until one or the other is badly beaten and is compelled to leave 
the neighbourhood. The most remarkable instances of pug- 
nacity are found, however, amongst the various species of 
Grouse, and when two suitors for the same hen come together 
very fierce and desperate encounters ensue, while the hen runs 
round cheeping, and thoroughly enjoying the duel. A 
battle between two vigorous birds may continue for hours, until 
the ground is strewn over with feathers from the head and 
breast. In some cases, as in that of Reinhardt's Ptarmigan 
{Lagopus rupestris reinhardti)^ the bird which is being driven 
away tries to win by strategy. He lures his pursuer to a con- 
siderable distance and then suddenly dashes back to the hen, 
who, in this species, appears to take very little interest in the 
engagement, but remains quietly feeding or resting in a per- 
fectly unconcerned manner. This is the more remarkable 
because the devotion of the male is carried to extremes. He 

162 



FIGHTING 

would die rather than leave her side, and sportsmen have 
observed that he often places himself between his partner and 
the danger by which she. is threatened, uttering warning cries 
and doing his utmost to draw attention to himself while she 
escapes out of harm's way. 

Reference to the Ptarmigans tempts us to make a short 
digression concerning the subject of protective colouration, 
of which these birds supply a remarkable instance, showing how 
admirably the colour of a bird may be adapted to the prevailing 
hue of its haunts. The species of PtaiTnigan (Lagopiis mutus) 
which is found in Britain makes its home on the highest and 
most baiTen of the Scotch mountains, on stony, lichen-splashed 
and moss-grown slopes. In the springtime the bird wears a 
dress of brown mottled with a yellowish hue, a garb admirably 
in keeping with the mosses and lichens amongst which it lives ; 
but as the summer wears on the colour gradually changes, so 
that by the time autumn has come, with scorched vegetation 
and lichens bleached by the sun, its robe is one of pale grey 
variegated with black. Then come the winter snows, which lie 
upon the hill-tops and form a white background against which 
the autumn plumage would stand out with dangerous distinct- 
ness ; but nature has made provision against this too, for our 
little friend puts off what colour remained, and dons a coat of 
almost wholly pure white — a dazzling white which is the white- 
ness of the snow in that clear atmosphere, and which is worn until 
spring melts the snow and brings back the brown-and-yellow 
garb with the new growth of lichens and mosses. The value of 
these changes as a means of protection is clear when we consider 
the birds' habits, for at sight of one of the more powerful Birds- 
of-Prey, or after being flushed several times by man, they cower 
down motionless among the stones from which they can scarcely 
be distinguished. 

This is an exceptionally remarkable instance of protective 
colouration because of the variety of the circumstances and the 
manner in which they are met, but the same general principle 

163 



FIGHTING 

can be observed in a host of different species — the sand-coloured 
desert birds, the green-plumaged inhabitants of tropical forests, 
the striped and barred species which skulk in reedy swamps, and 
many others. All such birds have the habit of remaining 
motionless when alarmed, and so long as they do that they 
stand an excellent chance of escaping detection. 

To return now to the subject of this chapter. There are few fea- 
tures in connection with bird-life more thoroughly picturesque 
and romantic than the tournaments in which certain species of 
Game-birds take part in the spring. We cannot give more 
than a single instance of these remarkable meetings here, 
but we are fortunate in possessing amongst our British birds 
one which furnishes an admirable example. This is the 
Black Grouse {Lyrurus tetrix% the male and female of which 
are known respectively as the Blackcock and Greyhen — a 
species which is found over the heath-country of England and 
Scotland, and in North Wales, though it appears, unhappily, to 
be decreasing in certain districts. On the moors of North 
Staffordshire and Derbyshire, for instance, where I met with it 
on some occasions when I was a boy, I have not observed it for 
many yoars. 

For their tournaments Blackcock choose a spot usually known 
as the 'playing-grounds,' to which all birds burning to display 
their valour and strength of bill regularly resort. The meeting 
place is on a level, grassy space near the roosting-grounds, and 
the birds assemble at earliest dawn, the males usually coming 
first, though occasionally they arrive together. The loud calls 
of the Blackcock are heard on all sides, and as soon as several 
birds are on the ground the fighting begins. Two rivals 
enter the lists and assume the fighting attitude, lowering their 
heads, spreading their tails, with the beautiful curved outer 
feathers, and trailing their long flight feathers along the ground. 
Slowly they advance, with gestures expressive of rage and fury, 
till they come within skirmishing distance, when they watch each 
other warily or close in and fence at close quarters. Suddenly 

164 



FIGHTING 

one of them makes a dash at his adversary and seizes him by the 
scruff of the neck, hammering him over the head vigorously with 
both wings till he is glad to get clear and escape to some quiet 
corner to recover before entering for another contest. The 
victor meanwhile gives his feathers a shake and takes possession 
of a grassy mound, which he is prepared to hold against all 
comers. He begins to utter his war-song, and has probably not 
long to wait before his challenge is accepted, but he is wise 
enough not to leave his point of vantage on the hillock until 
his opponent has expended much of his energy in trying to get 
past his guard, when he repeats the sudden tactics which 
proved successful in the first encounter. 

It sometimes happens that a third bird is spoiling for a fight 
with the one on the mound, but while the latter is engaged with 
another cock he does not interfere, though he dances round the 
combatants in excitement. During the battle the birds emit 
wild cries — a sort of hoarse shriek or screech. 

However fiercely the fight may be raging, however excited the 
duellists, the approach of a Greyhen produces a temporary 
truce. The bird which first observes her flings himself on 
fluttering wings a few feet into the air, with a loud call, and in 
a moment all the other birds assembled are following his ex- 
ample and indulging in the most grotesque antics imaginable. 
As soon as the new-comer alights, the nearest Blackcock becomes 
her knight and champion, while she walks around him and 
pecks at imaginary grains of food in a feeble pretence of indiffer- 
ence. As other hens arrive the same scene of excitement is 
enacted ; but as the season advances each hen pairs off with 
a particular male and always returns to him, while the other 
males cease to dispute for her favour. 

In the early spring these tournaments take place in the even- 
ing as well as at daybreak, but there are fewer combatants, and 
not the same zest and 'go' about the proceedings as in the 
early morning. 

Towards the middle of July the Blackcock loses his beautiful 
i6s 



FIGHTING 

curly tail, and with it all his pride and self-assertiveness. He 
goes into eclipse and has no fight left in him ; most of the 
day he remains in hiding, and when he does occasionally show 
himself at early dawn or in the twilight, he looks sadly. 

It is not very long since Game-cocks were bred in England 
for fighting, and in Spain, the home of the bull-fight, cock- 
fights are popular amongst certain members of the lower classes 
to this day. In England this cruel and degrading sport was 
put an end to by law many years ago. The cruelty lies not in 
setting two birds, which by their very nature are always spoil- 
ing for a fight, face to face until one or the other is killed, but 
in the shameful practice of cutting their combs and wattles, 
plucking out the feathers from some parts of the body and 
cutting others short, so that the birds are deprived to a great 
extent of their natural means of protection. 

In India, not only-Game-cocks, but Bulbuls, Bustard-Quails, 
and other birds are trained to fight for the entertainment of 
their owners. The last named are particularly interesting 
because, contrary to the almost universal rule amongst birds, it 
is the hens that do battle, the cocks being quiet and peace- 
loving. 

The Bustard-Quails are little birds, aot much larger than our 
common Sparrow, and are found only in the Old World — in 
Africa, and from Asia through the islands as far as the 
Australian continent. In appearance they resemble ordinary 
Quails, but unlike these and the rest of the Game-birds, they 
have no hind- toe, and for that reason they are called Hemipodes, 
A number of species are known, but the one which is common 
in India and China is the little Turnix taigoor. Its habits are 
so peculiar that we will quote the exact words in which they are 
described by Mr. A. O. Hume, the great authority on Indian 
birds. He writes : " The most remarkable point in the life- 
history of these Bustard-Quails is the extraordinary fashion in 
which amongst them the position of the sexes is reversed. The 
females are the larger and handsomer birds. The females only 

i66 



FIGHTING 

call, the females only fight — natives say that they fight 
for the males, and probably this is true. What is certain is 
that, whereas in the case of almost all the other Game Birds it 
is the males alone that can be caught in spring-cages, etc., 
to which they are attracted by the calls of other males, 
and to which they come in view to fighting, in this species 
no males will ever come to a cage baited with a male, whereas 
every female within hearing rushes to a cage in which a 
female is confined, and if allowed to meet during the breeding- 
season, any two females will fight until one or other is dead, 
or nearly so. 

"The males, and the males only, as we have now proved in 
numberless cases, sit upon the eggs, the females meanwhile lark- 
ing about, calling and fighting, without any care for their obe- 
dient mates ; and lastly, the males, and the males only, I believe, 
tend and are to be flushed along with the young brood. . . . 
Almost throughout the higher sections of the animal kingdom, 
you have the males fighting for the females, the females caring for 
the young ; here, in one insignificant little group of tiny birds, you 
have the ladies fighting duels to preserve . . . their husbands, 
and the latter sitting meekly in the nursery and tending 
the young." As we have seen, they are not the only birds 
among which the ladies do the courting, but I know of no other 
kind in which their masculine tendencies are quite so pro- 
nounced as in the Amazon Bustard-Quails. 

At the finish of a duel between two Game-cocks, the conqueror 
nearly always proclaims his victory by loudly crowing. The 
effect of victory or defeat on the bird's character is sometimes 
very marked. A curious instance of this was once described in 
the Spectator. A certain young Cock was the master of all the 
fowls of his generation in the farmyard, and was very fond of 
crowing ; while another Cock, a few weeks younger, never ven- 
tured to crow at all. But one evening a battle royal took place 
between these two, and the younger bird proved to be the 
victor. From that time, the character and habits of both birds 

167 



FIGHTING 

changed completely ; the younger became bold and self-assertive, 
and was for ever crowing, while his senior, whom he had 
defeated, was not known to crow again. 

The birds which are armed with leg-spurs use them by spring- 
ing at their rival and striking forward. Some of the kickers 
have a rather similar action ; Cassowaries, for example, are 
wonderfully agile jumpers and very quick in giving vigorous 
blows with their feet, the inner toe of which is furnished with a 
dangerous claw. The most powerful kicker, however, is a full- 
grown male Ostrich, which has almost as much power of limb 
as a mule. Some idea of its strength may be gathered from 
the fact that one of these birds has been known to kick a hole 
in corrugated iron. When two male Ostriches are fighting, 
many of the adversary's blows are received on the horny breast- 
pad, but the sharp claws often make wounds in the breast, 
body, and legs, for these birds have no means of guarding. On 
Ostrich farms the men who deprive the birds of their plumes 
take the precaution of drawing a bag over the Ostrich's head 
before they begin to pluck him, in order to keep him quiet and 
prevent him from resenting the operation. 

The birds which are raost favoured by Nature with the 
means of warding off their opponents' blows are undoubtedly 
the fighting Ruffs. The RufF {Pavoncella pugnax) is a wading- 
bird, and so belongs to the same order as Plovers and Snipes. 
In winter there is nothing very remarkable in its appearance ; 
it is a reddish-grey bird, darkly spotted above, and about the 
size of a Turtle-Dove, but with rather long, slender legs and 
beak. Except for its larger size, the cock-bird — to which the 
name of Riiff is more particularly applied — can scarcely be 
distinguished from the hen, which is known as the Reeve. In 
the early spring, however, before the commencement of the 
mating season, a most extraordinary transformation takes place 
in the appearance of the cock-bird, owing chiefly to the rapid 
growth of stiff feathers, between two and three inches long, 
below and around the throat, in the form of a frill or ruff. 

i68 




Stereo Copyright, Underwood &■ U. 

Robbing an Ostrich of its 



London and Xe; 

■ Plumes" 



A scene on an ostrich farm. The great bird is driven into an enclosure, where a bag 
is placed over its head to prevent it from injuring the men while they are removing its 
beautiful feathers. 



FIGHTING 

At the same time a change equally great takes place in the 
bird's disposition. In his winter quarters, where he lives with 
his fellows in large parties, he is as gentle as the Reeve, 
but during the breeding-season he thoroughly establishes his 
specific right to his Latin name of picgnax. He is ready to 
fight about anything and everything, or about nothing at all. 
He fights about a mate or an insect, about the ground on 
which he is standing or the spot to which another has laid 
claim, about a sound or a breath of air. His anger is terrible. 
The rivals stand facing one another with the hinder portion of 
the body raised high and the head held low, the long, thin 
beak pointing, lance-like, straight forward. The ruff is 
expanded like a shield and almost sweeps the ground; the 
long feathers stand out and quiver with excitement. Then the 
two birds rush upon each other and make desperate thrusts 
with their bills ; they spring and dart and leap and snap and 
struggle till one or both are exhausted and the duel comes to 
an end by mutual consent, the combatants shaking out their 
disordered plumage, still trembling with excitement and toss- 
ing up their heads in defiance And what is the result of it 
all ? The fact is, that nothing very serious ever happens 
despite all this violence and fury, for owing to the softness of 
the bill and the almost impenetrable stiffness of the broad 
collar, scarcely a single blow really gets home, and actual 
bloodshed is rare. The loss of a few feathers appears to be ths 
greatest harm that can ever result from these heroic encounters. 
Sometimes one or two Reeves stand by and calmly watch the 
proceedings for a little while, and it is thought that they show 
favour to the victor ; but the interest of a pair of these birds in 
each other is not lasting. Occasionally several couples are seen 
engaging at the same time in a very small area, but each bird 
directs all its efforts against its own adversary ; their fights are 
strictly duels, and a general melee is unknown. 

Ruffs in captivity are just as pugnacious as in the wild state. 
Formerly, when they bred in considerable numbers in the fen- 

i6g 



FIGHTING 

districts of Lincolnshire and elsewhere, they were regularly 
caught and fattened for the table. Montagu describes how he 
visited at Spalding a room where they were kept in confine- 
ment, and each bird had established a claim to a particular 
portion of the floor. His entrance drove some of them into 
their neighbours'* territory, with the immediate result that 
many battles were provoked. He tells us, too, that in feeding 
the birds several dishes of food had to be placed among them 
at a distance from one another, the birds being so quarrelsome 
that they would have starved in the midst of plenty rather 
than have eaten all from the same dish ! 

The sharp spurs with which the wings of some birds are 
armed are clearly weapons of oifence. The Spur-winged Plovers 
have a long spine on the point of the wing with which they 
strike when flying. Some of the Spur-winged Geese 
(Plectivptenis) of Africa are similarly armed, and are able to 
deliver a blow which is not a matter to be joked about. Not 
long ago, a man employed at the 'Zoo"* was disabled for a 
fortnight by a blow on the knee from one of these birds. The 
wings of the South American Screamers {Palamedea and 
Chaund) are also furnished with spurs, which they can use so 
effectively that a young bird but half-grown has been known 
to beat off" a dog. Each of the two kinds of Screamers men- 
tioned above has its own peculiar interest. Palamedea cornuta, 
which is commonly known as the Horned Screamer and has 
two spurs on each wing, bears on its forehead a slender ' horn ' 
three inches long. This appendage, when erect, stands out like 
the horn of that mythological animal the Unicorn, but as it is 
quite a soft stricture it appears to be intended merely for 
decoration. 

It is to the other species, Chauna chavaria, however, that the 
chief interest attaches. This is a smaller bird than Palamedea, 
with a hanging crest of feathers in place of the curious horn, 
and is found in the swamps and open level country of Paraguay 
and Southern Brazil. The inhabitants call it Chajd or 

170 




Rivals 

Many male birds fight fiercely for a mate at the time of pairing. 

The Tomfool, a species of Flycatcher, tries to spoil his rival's good looks by 
pulling out his tail-feathers. If he succeeds, he is so pleased with his trophy that 
he appears to forget all about its owner. 

The "Fighting Rufifs " make fierce passes at each other with their long sharp 
bills, but are protected by the stout shield of feathers around the neck. 1 he 
spectator on the right has assumed the typical sparring attitude in his excitement. 



FIGHTING 

Chaka in imitation of the very loud cry which it utters when 
soaring in circles at an immense height. Its nest of rushes is 
built with the foundation in the water, and about six eggs are 
laid. Now when the young are hatched, they are often 
removed from the nest by the inhabitants and reared ; under 
these conditions they become very tame and much attached to 
man. The owners of one bird told Mr. Hudson that it had 
previously lived in a settlement which was destroyed by Indians, 
and that for weeks afterwards it wandered about until, leagues 
away from its last home, it discovered a house which was 
inhabited. It immediately settled down there on the most 
friendly terms with everybody except one person — a dark- 
skinned peon, whom it apparently connected with the Indians 
who had destroyed its home, and hated accordingly. The 
Chaka soon began to show a paternal interest in the broods 
of young chickens about the house, and was given some 
to take care of. The more there were, the better pleased 
it seemed to be, and it proved an excellent and careful 
nurse. 

This account appears to confirm old stories of the Chaka, 
the truth of which has often been doubted, but which are 
accepted without question by Professor Newton. It was said that 
people kept the bird in a state of domestication to attend upon 
and protect their poultry, which were committed to its care in 
the same manner as a flock of sheep are placed in charge of a 
sheep-dog. During the day, it would defend them from all 
Birds-of-Prey, being able, by means of the spurs on its wings, 
to drive off even Vultures. It was also said never to desert its 
charges, and invariably to bring them all safe home at night. 
Perhaps there is a little exaggeration here — but there appears 
at least to be some reason for the name of " faithful Jacana " 
which was at one time applied to these birds. So far as I am 
aware, there is no other bird whose physical prowess has been 
made use of by man in a similar way. 

The " faithful Jacana '' of the older writers is not to be con- 
171 



FIGHTING 

fused with the Indian Jacana {Hydrophasianus chirurgus) whose 
home is in India, Ceylon, and China. This bird is a most 
strange-looking creature and is a favourite subject for the 
drawings of Chinese artists. It has a long, slender, flowing 
tail, and the first and fourth primary wing-feathers end in 
peculiar filaments ; but the most curious part of the bird is the 
foot. The claws (which are turned upward) and toes are of 
extraordinary length — far longer even than those of the 
Megapodes ; on this account the birds can walk with ease on 
the leaves of water-lilies and other plants which grow in rivers 
and lakes. During the breeding season each wing bears a 
carpal spur, but before the winter this weapon is shed, to be 
renewed again early in the following spring. When fighting, 
they seize each other with the bill and strike out with the 
armed points of both wings at once. 

If we have written at somewhat considerable length about the 
spur- winged birds, it is because they nearly all happen to 
possess some other peculiar characteristic which makes them 
exceptionally interesting. So it is with one other species to 
which we must devote a few lines — the North Island Woodhen 
or Weka-Rail {Ocydromus earli) of New Zealand. This is one of 
the small number of birds which has lost the power of flight, and 
is also interesting on account of its rat-like swiftness in running ; 
but what we are concerned with now is its extraordinarily pug- 
nacious character. In its natural haunts the bird is difficult to 
observe, for during the day it generally lies hidden, and is at all 
times so shy that, in spite of its loud, shrill cry, it is almost 
impossible to discover it without the help of a dog. It has, 
however, been carefully studied in captivity. When caged, the 
sight of a red cloth arouses its anger as it does that of a bull, 
and the introduction of another Weka generally results in a 
fight to the death, the two birds buffeting each other with their 
spiked wings — which, strange to say, though useless for flight 
are of ample size — until one or the other succumbs. A Weka 
mentioned by BuUer, in his book on New Zealand birds, u^ed to 

172 



FIGHTING 

fight violently with its own reflection when a looking-glass was 
put in the cage. 

Let us now turn to a few of the birds with which everybody 
is more or less familiar, such as Pigeons, Ducks, Parrots, 
Ravens, Dabchicks, and Moorhens, and learn something of their 
methods of conducting a quarrel. 

Pigeons and Ducks have no special weapons, and none at all 
that are capable of inflicting a very severe injury. In their 
sparring they use the beak to a certain extent, especially at 
first, but it is employed chiefly for holding while they strike 
with the wings. An extinct relative of the Pigeon, the 
Solitaire, had a bony knob at the bend of the wing which no 
doubt served as a sort of knuckle-duster, and made its blows 
far more effective, if we may judge from the evidence of the 
skeletons which have been dug up, in which many bones had 
evidently been broken during life. 

Robins, which are regarded with so much favour and affec- 
tion, share with Ravens the unamiable characteristic of fighting 
with their offspring for the possession of territory, with the 
result that the young birds are usually driven out. A fight 
between Robins has been known to last a whole day, one of the 
birds eventually being killed ; in both species, indeed, the 
battles often end fatally. Both bill and feet are used, the latter 
to guard or hold off* the adversary, or to keep him in chancery 
while the bill is brought into play. The blows are aimed at the 
top of the head, and occasionally a single, well-directed peck 
is sufficient to produce a fatal result. The wings are not used 
at all for striking or guarding. Ravens, Crows, and Rooks all 
follow very similar tactics in their encounters. When two 
Rooks are in a pugnacious mood, they lower their heads and 
raise and spread their tails, repeating the movement several 
times. Then the combatants jump suddenly at one another, 
each of them trying to get the upper position and strike his 
opponent down. After one or two darts they pause while they 
eye each other warily, their bills advanced and almost touching. 

173 



FIGHTING 

Many of the short-billed Finches try to bite their op- 
ponent's feet, which are usually very sensitive. Parrots, which 
also guard with their feet, are particularly apt to do this, and 
can inflict very severe bites with their powerful beaks. 

The mention of this method of warfare reminds me of an 
amusing story told by Mr. Hudson of a pair of Dabchicks 
which nested twelve years ago on the small pond in Clissold 
Park. The pond was already occupied by Moorhens and 
Swans, which for some reason objected to their small neigh- 
bours setting up house there and repeatedly destroyed 
their nest. The tiny Dabchick had, however, an ingenious way 
of resenting the interference of the big, bullying Swan. 
When the nest was begun in deep water and the Swans swam 
towards it, the Dabchick used to dive and nibble at the great 
birds' feet under water. Time after time the Swans were 
driven off in discomfort by this amusing strategy, and we 
should like to be able to say that so much courage and in- 
genuity was at last rewarded, and that the plucky little birds 
were left in peace and brought up a large family and lived 
happily ever afterwards. But nature-stories have not always 
fairy-tale endings, and so it was in this case, for at length the 
Dabchicks were conquered by superior strength and had to 
abandon their efforts to establish a home. 

Moorhens sometimes share with Robins and Ravens, and 
many other birds besides, the habit of driving away their young 
when they are of an age to look after themselves. Bishop 
Stanley, in his account of some Moorhens which frequented a 
moat and used to rear three broods in the season, says that on 
the appearance of the third brood the parents invariably drove 
the first family away to a neighbouring pond, where they 
remained until September. At that time the last hatch was 
about half grown, and there arrived on the moat a fresh party 
of birds which, from their tameness, was evidently composed of 
broods formerly bred there ; the united families then lived in 
harmony until the following spring, when the original pair 

174 



FIGHTING 

used to drive all the rest away. This was only accomplished 
after severe contests which often took place in the water. 
Their manner of fighting was peculiar : the combatants used 
to throw themselves on their rumps and strike at each other 
with their feet. When either of the birds felt that his op- 
ponent was getting the better of the duel, he dived and 
eluded further punishment by keeping his whole body sub- 
merged in the water of the moat, exposing only his beak for 
breathing. 

In the wild state Birds-of-Prey invariably carry on their 
duels in the air, each bird endeavouring to strike the other 
with its talons. Their method is the same as when hunting 
their prey ; the bird which is attacking soars above its adver- 
sary and then dashes down upon it at a great speed in order to 
strike it from above. The 'stoop," as it is called, often fails 
owing to the skill with which the lower bird swerves at the 
critical moment. Sometimes, however, when escape in this 
way is not possible, Kites adopt the plan of turning right 
over when about to be struck, and the two birds grapple 
and come to earth together. 

There is a well-known painting by Landseer, which you may 
have seen, representing a party of Eagles attacking a Swannery. 
The scene is an impossible one for several reasons. In the 
first place, so many Eagles would not be seen together, for they 
would never tolerate one another's presence in the neighbour- 
hood of the same hunting-ground. They would certainly not 
attack with their bills : they never do, but always strike with 
their talons. And lastly, they would not venture to engage 
with a party of Swans, for, as we have already mentioned, these 
birds can deliver terrible blows with their wings, and it is quite 
likely that the Eagle would fare no better than the Swan in 
such an encounter. When Landseer painted a picture of a 
sheep-dog or a stag he painted something that he knew ; when 
he painted Eagles he tried to imagine something that he had 
never seen, and he failed. Unfortunately, many pictures of 

175 



FIGHTING 

bird-life are just as unti-ue to nature because the artist has 
cared only about making his picture interesting. 

To go almost from one extreme to another, we find amongst 
the many birds which carry on their combats in the air such 
tiny creatures as the Humming-birds. The Todies or Flat-bills 
— bright-plumaged birds no larger than some of the Humming- 
birds — have the same habit. One species, the Todus dornini- 
ceiisis of Haiti, is of a singularly pugnacious disposition, and 
the birds are constantly fighting amongst themselves. Often 
two of them meet in the air, lock their flat bills together, and 
whirl round and round until they strike the ground, when, 
after a little sparring, one admits defeat by taking to flight. 

Occasionally birds have been known to take upon themselves 
the role of policeman by interfering to put a stop to assaults of 
other birds or generally to keep the peace. Jesse relates that 
a Carrion-Crow, a Magpie, and a Starling were observed in a 
sort of rough-and-tumble fight in a meadow near Worcester. 
The Crow was making determined effbrts to destroy the Star- 
ling, but the Magpie was heroically doing its best to defend the 
smaller bird and to drive the aggressor away. The Crow, how- 
ever, was getting the better of the encounter, when they were 
interrupted and the two chief combatants driven off*, the 
Magpie "loud clamouring at the wrong" and abusing the 
Crow in unmistakable terms, leaving the Starling gasping on 
its back with a broken wing. 

A more remarkable instance was that of a Violaceous Horn- 
bill {Biice?vs violaceus), which was kept in a menagerie at the 
Cape. The Hornbills are grotesque-looking birds with promi- 
nent eyelashes and huge bills, curved and pointed, and sur- 
mounted by a strange horn-like excrescence, called by naturalists 
the epithema. For the most part they are large and clumsy in 
their movements, hopping about after the manner of a Crow. 
The Violaceous Hornbill, which is a native of Ceylon, is, how- 
ever, rather more nimble than some other species, and the 
particular individual which was kept in the menagerie used to 

176 



FIGHTING 

pursue and catch without difficulty both rats and mice, which it 
swallowed whole after rubbing them in its bill. The bird, 
according to Shaw, " was a general peace-maker in the 
menagery, and whenever a quarrel arose among any of the 
other birds, it immediately ran to them, and by the strokes of 
its beak enforced a suspension of hostilities. It even kept 
the larger birds in awe, and Levaillant once saw it cause an 
Ostrich to run away with all its speed, pursuing it half flying 
and half running. In short it became the formidable tyrant of 
the whole menagery, which it imposed upon by the size of its 
enormous bill rather than by any genuine power ; thus proving 
the general truth, that appearance alone often proves a success- 
ful substitute for reality." The great bills of these birds are, 
indeed, by no means so terrible as they appear, for if the bird 
be allowed to use all its endeavours to bite a man's hand it 
fails to cause any real pain. We are aware of no practical use 
which is served by them, and it seems as though in this in- 
stance, as she so often does. Nature had merely realised the 
importance of " a swashing and a martial outside." 



177 



CHAPTER XI 
BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

Importance of the toilet— Perils of neglect— Dry-cleaning— The city- 
Sparrow— Choice of a toilet-powder — The tepid sand-bath— Preparing 
the bath — Hens and Partridges — Wood ashes — The enterprising 
Sparrow again — A bath-tub for city birds— Health and cleanliness— 
A shy bather— Drying— Bath-time— Owls— A cold tub— Preening — 
Masculine vanity, and feminine — The Six-plumed Paradise-bird — 
How the Motmot shapes its tail — Humming-birds — Swallows— Plunge- 
baths — Bathing in dew — Shower-baths— Parrots and their bathing 
parties— Water-birds— Salt water v. fresh— 'Brilliantine' — The uses of 
oil — The importance of neatness — Oihng the feathers — Brush and comb 
— Powder-downs — Humble servitors. 

WE cannot long pay attention to the habits of 
animals in their ordinary, everyday life without 
noticing that most of the furred and feathered 
kinds devote a great deal of care to their toilet, and derive 
much pleasure and satisfaction from keeping themselves clean 
and tidy. In captivity — at the 'Zoo,' for instance—some 
animals appear to find in their toilet an unfailing source 
of diversion when they grow weary of watching the tiresome 
creatures who loiter in front of their cages and stare at them 
in such an annoying manner; but even they would hardly be 
so zealous and persevering, however greatly they might be 
'bored' by the long and uneventful days, if they did not 
regard the occupation as an agreeable one. 

Now I think we shall not often be mistaken if we say that 
whatever an animal takes pleasure in doing is in some way 
or other very important either for its own welfare or that 
of its kind. It is, at all events, quite easy for us to under- 
stand the importance of an animal's toilet, and it is especially 

178 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

easy in the case of birds. It is hardly too much to say that 
the life of most birds from day to day, and almost from 
hour to hour, depends upon their power of flight, and there- 
fore upon their feathers. The Eagle would find it difficult to 
hunt down its prey, the Flycatcher to catch on the wing the 
multitude of insects which are necessary for its daily food, the 
Humming-bird to probe with its bill the blossoms in which it 
finds materials for a meal, if their feathers were not in good 
order. For the swimmers and divers the condition of their 
plumage is of no less importance, as we shall see presently. 
The vegetarians must be able to flit actively amongst the 
trees and bushes, or to and from the fields of grain ; and so 
with other kinds, excepting only the runners, which go to 
work in a different manner. 

There are, besides, other things to be taken into account : 
the health of a bird may suffer from the attacks of trouble- 
some parasites ; and again, if its power of flight be not quite 
perfect, it more easily falls a prey to cats, weasels, and the 
many enemies of its own race which are always on the look-out 
for a victim. For these and other reasons attention to the 
toilet is of the greatest importance, and we will now consider 
how various birds perform this duty. 

There are several ways in which birds clean their feathers, and 
the two chief methods are well known to everybody. The one 
which is most commonly seen, because it is constantly practised 
by the most familiar of all birds — Sparrows and Hens — is a 
sort of dry-cleaning process, namely, the dust-bath. The 
cleansing properties of 'dust' are very great. For many 
centuries the substance known as fuller's earth, which is 
nothing more than a peculiar kind of clay dried and finely 
powdered, has been used for cleansing cloth. This, of course, is 
well known ; but few people are aware that man himself some- 
times indulges in dust-baths. The Mohammedans are required 
by their religion to perform ablutions at certain times every 
day, and they are very careful to carry out this ceremony — 

179 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

though, as I have often observed, it is not always performed 
very thoroughly according to our ideas of ablution. Still, a 
good Mohammedan would be very unhappy if he did not 
obey the commands of the Prophet ; but what is he to do 
when he is in the desert, where there is no water? Like the 
Hens and Sparrows of our farmyards and cities, he resorts to 
the 'dry-cleaning"' process, and uses sand instead of water. 

Now let us see how birds take their dust-baths. Any day 
when the roadway is dry and dusty, especially in hot, sunny 
weather, you may from time to time see a Sparrow fly down to 
some spot — a little hollow worn by the traffic, a rut, or the hole 
left by a horse's hoof in wet weather — where the dust is fairly 
thick, and sinking down upon it, puff out its feathers, droop 
and flutter its wings, depress its tail, flirt the dust about its 
head with little jerky, digging movements of the bill, pause, 
turn round and round, ruffle and shake again, and finally, after 
a little further fluttering, to free its plumage of the dust, fly 
away. Sometimes half a dozen Sparrows may be seen close 
together, all taking their dust-bath in company and chirping 
happily to one another, until they drop out of the party one 
by one to resume their busy flittings to and fro. The bath 
may be quite a lengthy ceremony. I have just observed a little 
bathing-party outside my window ; there were seven or eight 
birds most of the time, but the company was changing continu- 
ally, some birds leaving at short intervals and fresh arrivals 
taking their place. The majority remained about two or three 
minutes, some longer, while others took only a hurried 'dip' 
and went away again. Sparrows generally choose the driest 
and finest dust they can find, ground to powder by passing 
wheels, though on damp days they still manage to enjoy 
themselves in the sand which has been washsd by rain to the 
side of the road, provided it be not too wet. 

Other birds have other tastes. In the early morning, if you 
take a walk along a road over downs, moorland, or through 
wide pastures, you may occasionally come upon a Skylark dust- 

i8o 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

ing in some little hollow of the surface ; he for his part prefers 
a coarser, more gritty powder than our neighbour the Sparrow, 
and is most often to be seen taking his bath in a little collec- 
tion of sand, the finer parts of which have been washed away 
by rain or winnowed by the wind. Often, too, he may be 
observed on a bare, dry, sandy patch on the fields or common, 
crouching low, lying on his side, shaking his wings or his 
whole body, and thoroughly dusting all his feathers to cleanse 
them. I have seen a Nightjar behaving in a similar manner, 
but he was taking his bath in the evening, at dusk, before 
setting out on his wonderful, mazy flight in pursuit of moths 
and chafers. That was in a field beside a beech wood, at a 
spot from which a few pieces of turf had been cut, leaving 
a shallow hole half filled with drifted sand. In America, the 
Whip-poor-will, a near relation of our Nightjar, is said to 
have, on sandy roads, its favourite bathing-spots, to which it 
resorts for frequent sand-baths. Another kind of bird which I 
have often observed in little dusting-parties by the side of a 
road which runs over the ridge of a moor is the Grouse ; it has 
always been in the noontide hours that I have seen them, 
and I imagine that, like many Game-birds, they like their sand- 
baths warm, or at least ' with the chill ofF.' 

The ordinary domestic Fowl and many of its relatives 
make special preparations for the bath by scratching a hollow 
in the dry ground and breaking up the earth into fine dust 
before crouching down into it. Partridges are very thorough 
in this method of dusting. They find a place where the ground 
is free from grass or other vegetation and the soil is dry, and 
there they scratch a shallow hole. When the earth is suffi- 
ciently pulverised to suit their taste, they shuffle backwards in 
the dust in a curious manner, until their feathers are every- 
where full of it, fluttering and ruffling their plumage in the 
most energetic way with keen enjoyment. I am informed 
that wood ashes are occasionally employed for scouring and 
cleansing, and it is interesting to find that birds appreciate 

i8i 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

the efficacy of this particular toilet-powder, and take advantage 
— especially in rainy weather when dry earth is difficult to 
find — of any little heap of ashes left by a bonfire. 

Though the devotees of the dust-bath are very numerous, 
the majority of birds prefer to wash in water, and many 
kinds are most assiduous bathers. Very many ' dusters ' never 
wash, but there are not a few exceptions to the rule, and the 
Sparrow is one of them. In spite of his plebeian habits, he is 
in many ways a luxurious little creature, and few of the simpler 
methods of enjoyment practised by birds have escaped his 
enterprising mind. He has never learnt to perform elaborate 
flight-dances, and but few of his species ever utter a true song, 
but in matters requiring no great skill the Sparrow is as good a 
bird as any of them — perhaps better — or he would not be so 
extraordinarily successful in life. The Sparrow, then, though 
he takes his dust-bath as a matter of course, and enjoys it too, 
is fond of a water-bath when he can get it, which in a big 
town is not, perhaps, as often as he would like. If you will put 
some clean water in a shallow dish or tray, and place it in a 
convenient situation (out of the reach of cats) you will soon 
find by the altered appearance of the water how greatly your 
thoughtfulness has been appreciated — and how inadequate as a 
cleansing agent is the dust of a city street, when assiduous 
' dusters ' like the Sparrows leave behind them such unmistak- 
able evidence of having made use of the tub you have provided 
for them. 

Those who have aviaries, and those who keep their so-called 
'pef birds imprisoned in miserable little cages, know — or 
should know — how thoroughly almost every kind of perching 
bird revels in an occasional bath. Some species cannot be 
kept in good health, in captivity, without it ; for Hawks and 
other Birds-of-Prey the bath is essential ; and in the old days, 
when Zoological Gardens were not so well managed as they 
are now, there is no doubt that many valuable and inter- 
esting birds died from the lack of a bathing-place. Whether 

182 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

they bathe as regularly in their natural, free, wild condition 
we do not know, for they are shy and not easy to observe, but 
there is no reason to suppose that they do not. 

The bath of a trained Falcon, kept for hawking, such as a 
Peregrine (the king of them all), is interesting to watch, 
but to observe it in its perfection, or to observe it at all in 
the case of a young bird, or one which has not been thoroughly 
trained, the spectator must be hidden — otherwise the bird 
will probably sulk on her perch, for those who keep Hawks 
inform me that at no time are they so shy as when bathing. 
Descending from her block, the Falcon steps cautiously and 
deliberately into the shallow pan of water, not without many 
careful glances around. If satisfied that she is in no danger 
of being interfered with, down she stoops, and dipping her 
broad, flat head under the surface, tosses the water over her 
back, ruffling her feathers meanwhile, so that her plumage 
becomes thoroughly soaked. Wings and tail are spread and 
folded rapidly until they too are well cleansed, and a final 
energetic flutter, which scatters a shower of sparkling drops all 
around, completes the bath. Her care then is to dry her 
feathers as quickly as possible. She flies up to her perch or 
block, and rests there, if possible, with her back exposed to the 
sun, her wings and tail half open, and all her feathers raised 
so as to allow the air to penetrate amongst them and hasten 
the evaporation of the moisture. The drying is further 
assisted by the occasional stretching of a wing or a general 
shake of all the feathers, and I take it as an instance of 
Shakespeare's keen and exact observation when he makes Sir 
Richard Vernon compare the trembling plumes of "the 
nimble-footed madcap"" Prince of Wales and his comrades to 
the " baiting " or fluttering of Eagles, " having lately bathed." 

Though the bath may be taken at any hour of the day, 
different birds seem to prefer different times. The Sparrow 
likes an early morning tub, but washes and dusts at all hours : 
the Robin, on the other hand, generally bathes in the evening 

183 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

before going to bed, and often when most other birds have 
already retired to roost. With Blackbirds and Thrushes noon 
is the fashionable hour; but there is no hard and fast rule 
in any case, and these are merely the times when, broadly 
speaking, the birds are most frequently to be seen bathing. 
Some of the Finches appear very rarely to take a water-bath 
at all : they prefer a dry shampoo with sand. 

Many of the Owls, such as the Screech-Owls {Scops asio\ 
are cleanly in their habits, and very fond of bathing; there 
are species, however, which live far from the neighbourhood 
of water, and in their case a regular tub is clearly out of 
the question ; they must either dust, or they must bathe 
in dew — a dainty habit which is possessed by certain other 
birds, as we shall see presently. Some years ago Mr. Frank 
Bolles gave a delightful account of two Barred Owls which 
he kept in captivity. The title by which these birds are 
known to ornithologists is Syrnium nehulosum^ but Mr. Bolles 
Owls were usually called by the more familiar names of 
" Fluffy " and " Puffy." He says : " They not only drank water 
freely, but took prolonged baths whenever fresh water was 
given them. Their tank was one foot and a half long, a foot 
wide, and ten inches deep. Their reflection in this compara- 
tively deep and dark pool greatly amused them for a time. 
On the arrival of fresh water Fluffy was usually the first at 
the brink, ready to drink several times, and then to step 
cautiously in. He would test the depth before ducking his 
head, and then, holding out his wings, he would pump the 
water under them, flapping his tail and otherwise drenching 
himself. When thus soaked he became about the size of a 
plucked Pigeon, the colour of a Crow, and a dismal object to 
look upon. His eyes at such times would stand out from his 
drenched and drizzling feathers in a most unpleasant way. 
This habit of bathing has been maintained in all weathers 
and temperatures. I have seen both birds take their plunges 
on mornings when the mercury outdoors was not more than 

184 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

10° F. On such occasions they shiver for hours before dry- 
ing. After washing, it is their habit to preen each feather in 
their wings and tails with^reat care and precision." 

Preening the feathers is a most important part of a bird's 
toilet ; it is practised not only after the bath, but at frequent 
intervals, as occasion requires, throughout the day. The 
plumage is arranged by means of the bill, the feathers being 
pushed, pressed, dragged, and teased into their proper places, 
and sometimes further smoothed and pressed down with the 
help of the throat and neck. Individual feathers — especially 
in the highly decorated species — receive special attention, and 
are drawn through the bill to clean away every speck of dust 
and put the web in order. This is very noticeable in the 
case of those gaily-clad creatures, the Paradise-birds. They 
cannot endure that a feather should be out of place, or that 
a single speck should mar the exquisite beauty of their plum- 
age. When perched upon a bough, the male Paradise-bird 
— for he alone has the fine feathers — is constantly spread- 
ing his wings or tail and taking sidelong glances at his 
beautiful plumage. There are no bounds to his admiration 
of his own good looks ; there is no limit to his industry in 
making himself appear to the best advantage. Those 
species which have soft, spreading side -plumes draw them 
gently through the bill and shake them lightly out, touch 
and retouch, arrange and rearrange, until their fastidious 
taste is satisfied, when they bound to and fro in the exuber- 
ance of their vanity, eager to display their wondrous charms. 
All this activity naturally displaces a feather here and there 
and the birds find it necessary, after showing off, to make 
themselves tidy again. But what of that? They love to 
do it, and, like some other vain bipeds, they seem never to 
weary of the labour of arranging their fine clothes. 

So far as I have been able to ascertain, the Paradise-birds 
take dust-baths in much the same way as the Game-birds up 
to a certain point, but with little eccentricities of their own 

i8s 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

which are quite in keeping with their remarkable appear- 
ance and peculiar habits. We may take as an example the 
beautiful and wonderful Six-plumed Paradise-bird (Parotia 
sexpennis). You have probably seen the skin of one of these 
birds, horribly mutilated and deformed, bereft of all its grace, 
but still retaining much of its glorious colouring and the 
six curious racket-shaped feathers from which it derives its 
name — you have probably seen one, distorted, alas ! almost 
beyond recognition, attached to a lady''s hat, for this is one 
of the rare and beautiful creatures which are being killed 
wherever and whenever they can be found, and exterminated 
as rapidly as possible, for the satisfaction of human vanity. 
There is something almost grotesque and laughable about the 
vanity of the gorgeous Paradise-bird ; but his fine feathers are 
at all events his own. There would be something far more 
laughable, as it is infinitely more grotesque, about the vanity 
of those who wear it dead, if only it were not overshadowed 
by the meanness of destroying what is most beautiful on earth 
to satisfy a whim. 

It is not with the Six-plumed Paradise-bird dead that we 
are concerned, however, but with a joyous, shining creature, 
full of life and energy, moving from tree to tree in the depth 
of a forest, and uttering his loud, harsh cry ; for though he 
is very lovely to look upon, his voice is not by any means 
beautiful. Even a Paradise-bird is not quite perfect. To 
clean his rich plumage, this strange bird scrapes a round place 
clear of leaves and grass, at some spot where the earth is dry, 
and so prepares a dust-bath like any gallinaceous bird. But 
he is not content to crouch and flutter his feathers in the dust as 
most birds are, for Signor d'Albertis tells us that he rolls over 
and over with loud cries, ruffling and flapping, raising his bright 
silvery crest, extending his six remarkable battledore feathers, 
and behaving altogether in such an eccentric manner that you 
would suppose he was engaged in a conflict with some imaginary 
enemy. 

1 86 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

Many species of birds besides this Paradise-bird are the 
possessors of battledore or racket feathers, and some of them, 
the Motmots, owe this form of decoration entirely to their own 
enterprise. The Motmots are allied to the Kingfishers, and 
are found in certain parts of Central America and over nearly 
the whole of the Southern continent. Though less gaily 
clothed than many of their near relations, they are handsome 
birds with lustrous greenish or bluish plumage ; the most strik- 
ing thing about them, however, is the presence of two long 
racket feathers in the middle of the tail. If these feathers be 
carefully examined, and the bare shaft above the racket drawn 
between finger and thumb, it will be found that the sides of the 
shaft are rough, like a file. Now the long shaft of a racket 
feather is usually smooth — as smooth as a quill ; and this peculiar 
roughness is rather suggestive of a feather from which the 
barbs have been broken. That, in fact, is really the case, for 
the young Motmot has the middle feathers of the tail of quite 
an ordinary kind, with a complete web on each side, and it 
actually nibbles off part of the web and trims the feathers into 
the fashionable racket shape ! This extraordinary habit, which 
is perhaps quite unique amongst birds, was reported long ago by 
Waterton, but few people believed it possible until some years 
later, when the report was shown beyond doubt to be a true one. 
Even now nobody has been able to offer any explanation as to 
how the habit of tail-trimming arose. As the middle feathers 
are not at first longer than the others, the young Motmot 
sometimes makes a mistake and begins to trim the wrong ones, 
until the central pair develop further and he corrects his error 
as far as possible by nibbling those, though he cannot of course 
replace the pieces chipped out. The Motmot's beak has saw- 
like edges which may be helpful in the trimming process. I 
lately saw the skin of one of these birds in which the tail had 
hardly been trimmed at all, and found that this was due to 
some old injury to the beak which prevented the edges from 
meeting properly, so that it was no use for cutting. The 

187 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

Motmot is justifiably proud of his work and sits for long 
periods at rest on a bough, swinging his tail from side to side 
like the pendulum of a clock. 

To return now to the subject of bathing : even more dainty 
and gem-like than the Paradise-birds — and not less persecuted 
on account of their beauty — are the Humming-birds ; but their 
toilet methods are more in keeping with the exquisite splendour 
of their plumage. They bathe very frequently, and often 
resort, at all times of the day, to a brook with little pools of 
clear water, among the trees. Their favourite bathing-time, 
however, is the evening, during the brief tropical twilight, 
when several birds may often be seen hovering together over 
the same tiny pool, turning from side to side with quick, jerky 
movements of the tail, their ceaseless flitting to and fro dis- 
playing in a wonderful way the gleaming, gem-like radiance of 
the feathers ; one moment, it may be, flashing like an emerald, 
the next glowing like an amethyst, and then, most wonderful 
of all, dipping an instant beneath the surface and reappearing 
with a flash to throw off a tiny shower of glittering spray 
before retiring to a favourite twig to preen their feathers. 
That, however, is but one of the methods of bathing practised 
by Humming-birds — a method which they share in common 
with our own Swallows and the Drongos or King-Crows of 
India, which may be seen, as they skim over the water, dipping 
into a pool time after time in the course of their flight. 
Drongos, Swallows, and Humming-birds alike appear to be able 
to perform nearly all the functions of everyday life while on 
the wing. House-Martins and Sand-Martins, which ought 
never to be, but often are, mistaken for Swallows, have not 
quite the same perfect power of flight, and do not often wash 
while on the wing, though they may occasionally be seen 
'dipping^ in very hot weather. 

But to return to the Humming-birds. The Broad-tailed 
Hummer {Selasphorus platycerus) is one of those enthusiasts 
who wake early and go to bathe at daybreak, however cold. 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

and even frosty, the Aveather may be. Dr. Merriam describes 
how they may be seen at their bathing-place in such numbers 
as to remind one of a swarm of bees buzzing round the head 
of an intruder and darting hither and thither until the air 
appears to be full of them. In the midst of their flight they 
drop down to the water, dip their feet and bellies, and spring 
up again as suddenly as if propelled by some unseen mechanism. 
There is something which is wonderfully attractive about these 
sudden little plunge-baths taken in the midst of rapid flight ; 
but we have not yet come to the end of the Humming-birds' 
dainty methods of performing their toilet. Perhaps the most 
idyllic of them all is that observed by Wallace, in the island of 
Mexiana, on the Equator. On approaching a tree near the 
house in which he was staying, he found a multitude of blue-and- 
green Sabre-winged Humming-birds {Campylopterus\ with long 
forked tails, fluttering amongst the foliage. The leaves were 
wet with dew, and the little birds appeared to be washing and 
cooling themselves with the moisture. Shower-baths, too, are 
much appreciated by the commoner species of Humming-birds 
which are seen in gardens, for they have frequently been 
observed flying to and fro through the spray of a fountain. 

Fountains, however, are not found everywhere, and few birds 
would be able to enjoy the luxury of a shower-bath if they 
had to depend on such artificial appliances. But Nature pro- 
vides a shower-bath for all, in most of the regions inhabited by 
birds : the most perfect of all shower-baths, rain. 

Now there are birds which dislike rain almost as much as 
their hereditary enemies the cats dislike it ; some, on the 
other hand, delight in it. I have noticed that the birds which 
habitually indulge in what we may call a plunge-bath, seem to 
find it most enjoyable of all when it is combined with a shower ; 
and during a rain-storm, especially after a spell of fine weather, 
great numbers of feathered bathers take advantage of the 
opportunity. Amongst the rain-loving species we find birds as 
widely different as Ducks and Parrots. During the progress of 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

a heavy tropical rain-storm, when the air is ahnost darkened, 
Parrots may frequently be seen sitting motionless at the very 
summit of a tree, on dead branches devoid of foliage, allowing 
the water to stream over them, and uttering cheerful screams 
of enjoyment. They might easily find shelter amidst the thick 
boughs and dense foliage below them, but they prefer to expose 
themselves to the shower, though in fine weather they keep 
under cover. As soon as the rain has ceased, however, they 
appear just as eager to get dry again. 

Parrots very quickly become drenched with moisture, and 
they are absolutely incapable of swimming. I recollect one 
which fell overboard from a steamer off Durban, and its utter 
helplessness in the water, where it was drowned before any 
attempt could be made to rescue it. This bird had been the 
last survivor of an unfortunate company, for several others, 
all of them of the Grey African kind, which had been taken 
on board at Las Palmas, sickened and died during the course 
of the short voyage, and I found that they were all victims 
of tubercular disease. Whether Parrots are subject to this 
scourge in their wild state, or only in confinement, I do not 
know. But to return to the subject of bathing; though 
Parrots are apparently so ill-adapted to aquatic games, they 
often form great bathing parties and play about in the water 
until their plumage is soaked through. The Damask Parrot 
(Psittacus mfuscatus\ which, like the Grey Parrot, is an African 
species, forms such parties twice daily, after the morning and 
evening meals. According to Levaillant, all the Parrots of 
the district meet together and repair, with much noise, to the 
bathing-place, which may be situated a considerable distance 
away, for none but limpid water will satisfy their fastidious 
tastes. On their arrival, they are to be seen rolling and 
tumbling over one another in the utmost confusion on the 
banks, dipping their heads and wings, scattering drops of 
water in glistening showers over all their plumage, and 
thoroughly enjoying the frolic. When they have finished 

190 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

bathing they return to the dead trees which form their meet- 
ing-place, and finish their toilet by adjusting and preening 
their feathers. The birds then fly off in pairs, and the party 
breaks up until the next morning, when they all forgather 
once more to dry their dew-drenched plumage in the first 
rays of the sun. It is mentioned above that the Parrots have 
for their place of meeting a number of dead trees. I believe 
that the trees are often killed by the Parrots themselves, 
which bite off all the buds and leaves and strip the branches 
quite bare, as they have done in the great aviary at the ' Zoo.' 

Parrots sometimes indulge in dust-baths, and enjoy playing in 
sand. In wet weather and in districts where dry sand is 
difficult to find, they have been known to creep into King- 
fishers' burrows in search of dust. 

There is an old tradition that when a 'busman lays aside 
his whip for a few hours and takes a holiday, he usually 
spends the day as a passenger on a comrade's 'bus. One is 
reminded of this by the circumstance that when swimming and 
diving birds are not engaged in paddling about on the surface 
of the water, or diving for their food, many of them devote a 
good deal of time to bathing ! That it should be necessary 
for such birds to take special baths is one of those unexpected 
things in Nature that nobody would be in the least likely to 
foresee, and it is a striking proof of the importance to a bird of 
careful attention to its toilet. Both Ducks and diving birds 
seem to prefer a shower-bath to any other; Wild Ducks, for 
instance, may be seen in heavy rain ruffling their feathers and 
allowing the drops to penetrate until their plumage is thor- 
oughly soaked ; and those curious and most skilful fishers, the 
Snake-birds {Plotus anhinga), which derive their name from 
their remarkable habit of swimming with the body wholly 
submerged and nothing but the thin, snaky neck and slender 
head raised above the surface, are equally fond of a shower. 
When sleeping, they stand on branches of trees over the water, 
a few yards apart, the torpedo-like body almost erect, and the 

191 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

head snugly tucked away beneath the ' scapulars."" So great is 
their enjoyment of a shower-bath that in rainy weather they 
may remain roosted nearly the whole day, standing quite still 
with the head and neck stretched up towards the sky, allowing 
the water to run over them, with an occasional violent rufHe 
and shake of their dark, green-glossed plumage. 

The cleansing properties of salt water are by no means equal 
to those of fresh river- water, and this may account for the fact 
that Gulls and other sea-birds like a fresh-water bath occasion- 
ally. Mr. Kearton believes that fresh water has the very desir- 
able effect of killing the parasites which live amongst their 
feathers. In the island of Unst he noticed that after wash- 
ing in fresh water the Gulls shake their plumage while on 
the wing and then make their way to a hill-side, where they 
sit facing the wind while they put their feathers in order. It 
has been observed that Penguins — not those which make their 
home in the ice-region, for in their case it would be impossible 
— usually choose for their breeding-ground some situation in 
the neighbourhood of fresh water, in which they delight to 
bathe. Though they are ill-adapted for travelling on land, 
they occasionally put up with the inconvenience of a long 
journey to and from the sea if they can find a suitable boulder- 
strewn slope near a stream whereon to make their home. 

We have yet to mention what is generally supposed to be 
quite the most important part of a water-bird's toilet. Every- 
body, or almost everybody, must at some time or other have 
seen a Duck preening its feathers, and will certainly have 
noticed that now and then it presses its bill just over the 
root of its tail and afterwards rubs it over its feathers. 
If you will turn aside the feathers on a Duck's back, just 
over the root of the tail, you will find a little patch where 
the skin is raised into a low mound, and if you examine this 
very carefully you will see two tiny openings. This is a 
most precious possession of the Duck, for it is the source 
from which the bird obtains an unfailing supply of oil where- 

192 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

with to oil its feathers. We all know that oil and water will 
not mingle — that water runs rapidly from an oily surface — 
runs, in fact, " like water from a duck's back," which is only 
another way of expressing the same meaning, for the Duck 
sees to it that his back, and all the rest of his body surface 
for that matter, is an " oily surface." The advantage of this 
arrangement as a means of preventing water from penetrating 
the plumage when the bird is swimming and diving is obvious ; 
but it is not the only means, as we shall see presently. If the 
water had access to the feathers it would interfere very much 
with the bird''s success as a swimmer ; the whole plumage would 
become soaked and water-logged, and its buoyancy would be 
diminished, for the air amongst the feathers is of great assist- 
ance in keeping the body afloat high in the water ; and as an 
air-jacket is also the very best means of preventing loss of 
heat, the bird's body is kept warm, however long it may remain 
afloat. An oily surface, moreover, enables the bird to pass 
more easily through the water, by diminishing the amount of 
friction. In recent attempts to swim the Channel, it has been 
the habit of at least one famous swimmer carefully to oil his 
body all over before entering the sea, thus taking a lesson from 
the Ducks. 

It is not enough that the feathers should be well oiled, how- 
ever ; if the water is to be kept out of the plumage, the feathers 
which cover the surface — the contour-feathers, as they are 
called — must all be in good order, smooth, close, and compact, 
for if any are broken or disarranged a leak is established, and 
however oily the plumage may be, the unfortunate bird soon 
becomes soaked to the skin. 

That excellent naturalist, Mr. St. John, believed that the 
imperviousness to wet of the plumage of wild-fowl is entirely 
due to the manner in which the feathers are placed. In one of 
his interesting books he says : " As long as a wild duck of any 
kind is alive, his skin remains perfectly dry, though in the 
water, and although, from the situation in which he may be 
N 193 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

placed — being pursued, for instance — it is quite impossible for 
him to find time to ' oil his plumage," . . . but the moment 
a duck or water fowl is dead the water penetrates thro' the 
feathers, wetting the animal completely. If one wing is broken 
the feathers of that wing immediately become soaked with 
wet, the bird not having the power of keeping the feathers of 
the broken part in proper position to resist the entry of the 
water. We all know that birds are able to elevate, depress, 
and, in fact, to move their feathers in any direction by a mus- 
cular contraction of the skin. When this power ceases, the 
feathers hang loosely in every direction, and the wet enters to 
the skin." There is no doubt, however, that greasy feathers do 
count for a great deal. Birds which do not possess them very 
quickly become " wet to the skin " if they happen to fall into 
the water, however well groomed they may be ; and if you will 
take two of the feathers of a Duck's breast and ask your friend 
the doctor to remove all the oil from one of them by washing 
it in ether, and if you will then dip them both in cold water 
for a moment, you will see for yourself which of the two is 
wetted more readily. 

Now all this shows how veiif important it is for swimming 
birds to keep their feathers perfectly tidy, as well as thoroughly 
oiled, and they behave as though they were quite well aware of 
it, for they are even more attentive to their toilet than the 
land -birds, though most of the latter use oil too, and owe 
some of their beauty to the gloss which it imparts to their 
plumage. 

In localities frequented by Cormorants it is interesting to 
watch those birds when they have returned from their fishing. 
They may be seen sitting with their wings half extended, 
drying themselves in the wind ; that is the preliminary part 
of their toilet. When their plumage is diy enough to retain 
the oil, they squeeze a little from the gland with their beak and 
proceed to dress their feathers. Cormorants, as we shall learn 
later on, are sometimes trained for fishing, and Mr. Salvin, who 

194 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

kept these birds as well as Hawks, was able to observe their 
habits very closely and far more exactly than it is possible to 
observe them when wild, even with the aid of a good glass. He 
says : " After dinner, in lieu of taking a nap, they take their 
bath, and then, having ascended to some elevated position, they 
flap themselves dry, and finish their toilette by oiling their 
feathers from the oil gland, which I have repeatedly seen them 
and hawks do when upon my fist." Mr. Salvin's favourite 
Cormorant was named ' Old Isaac,' after Isaac Walton, in 
humorous allusion to its skill as a fisherman, and he goes on to 
say : " ' Old Isaac ' did this so deliberately that you could actually 
see the ' macassar ' squeezed out ; and after applying it with his 
bill, he rubbed it in with his throat." 

One of those eccentric-looking birds, the Hornbills, uses so 
much oil in this way that the feathers of its neck become 
stained a yellow colour; but perhaps this is due to the par- 
ticular kind of oil which it secretes. At all events, the 
'macassar' is not quite the same in all birds, and in the 
Muscovy Duck and a few others it is scented. 

Before taking leave of birds which pass much time in the 
water, we must just allude to a curious habit possessed by the 
Moorhen, which wrings out the water from its feathers by 
means of its bill. 

So far we have seen that birds are endowed with accessories 
and aids to the toilet in the form of an oil-gland or grease-pot ; 
the feathers of the neck, which in Ducks, Cormorants, and 
other birds serve as a brush ; and the bill, which is used as a 
comb — though it must be admitted that it is an extremely 
simple form of that implement. A certain number of species, 
however, are provided with another structure, which possibly 
serves a similar purpose, though it may have other uses as well. 
In these birds, amongst which we may name the Nightjar and 
the Heron, the claw of the third toe is toothed, or serrated, 
as it is called; and as they, like many others, use their 
claws for scratching themselves, it is not unlikely that the 

195 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

peculiar claw is of some help in putting the feathers in 
order. 

Herons, Bitterns, Parrots, Tinamous, and some Hawks and 
other birds are the possessors of what we may perhaps refer to 
as powder-pufFs. These are patches of remarkable down- 
feathers, properly known as powder-downs, which have the 
peculiarity of constantly crumbling away into an exceedingly 
fine dust. In Herons the powder -downs form four great 
patches, a pair on the breast and another pair over the thighs, 
but in some other birds they are scattered over almost the 
entire body. Unfortunately we do not yet understand the 
exact nature of this powder, nor do we know of what use it is 
to the bird, though it certainly helps to produce the beautiful 
bloom which is seen on the feathers of some Parrots and 
Cockatoos. 

All birds, from the highest to the lowest, perform their own 
toilet without assistance, though it is to be remarked that the 
most intelligent of all (except possibly some of the Crow tribe), 
the Parrots, occasionally display their affection for one another 
by preening each other's feathers in play. Two tame American 
Crows, however, which belonged to Mr. Abbott M. Frazer, hit 
upon a very novel and efficacious method of keeping their 
plumage free from troublesome parasites. These knowing birds 
engaged a whole army of attendants to assist in the process, for 
they used to stand quietly on an ant-mound and allow the ants 
to crawl over and amongst their feathers, displaying meanwhile 
evident signs of satisfaction, as it was very natural that they 
should, for the ants quickly seized any vermin which was lurk- 
ing in their plumage and carried it away. This observation 
may perhaps explain why it is that certain kinds of birds so 
frequently make their nest in a cavity hollowed out of an ant's 
nest. Writing of a species of Kingfisher, the Ceyx dillwynni, 
which is found in North Borneo, Dr. Sharpe says : " Often will 
the traveller see a small, bright yellow bird pass him in the 
forest like a little express train, whistling as though it were 

196 



BIRDS AT THEIR TOILET 

important to let every one know it was coming. Then sud- 
denly the whistling ceases and the bird has perched. . . . This is 
one of the Bornean 'Burong angi," or 'omen birds."*" Dr. 
Sharpe noticed that a nest of this bird, which contained two 
eggs, was swarming with ants ; is it not possible that they were 
the toilet attendants of the little yellow Kingfisher ? 



197 



CHAPTER XII 
SWIMMING AND DIVING 

How water-birds are kept warm and dry — The double garment of feathers 
— An air-cushion — The shape of diving and s^vimming birds— Methods of 
propulsion — Feet and wings— Penguins, Darters, and Cormorants- 
Diving as a means of escape— How do birds remain submerged? — 
Pursuit of the Great Northern Diver— Advantage of swimming under 
water — High diving of Gannets — The instinct of escape — The versatile 
Dipper. 

NOT long ago I was watching the Ducks and Gulls on the 
Round Pond in Kensington Gardens. A few yards 
away stood a small boy, accompanied by his nurse and 
a dog ; they also were interested in the birds — especially so the 
dog, which presently ran a little way into the pond, barking 
loudly at a Duck which had ventured within a few yards of his 
nose after a piece of bread which had been thrown to it. The 
nurse called him back, and told him he must not go into the 
water, because he would catch cold. " But, nurse, why don't 
the Ducks catch cold ? " asked the boy. 

Why don''t the Ducks catch cold ? Why do not Gulls catch 
cold.? and Swans, and scores of other birds, many of which 
spend hours at a time on the water, some of them sleeping 
there even in severe frosty weather ? or, again, birds which 
remain there constantly for many days, like the Eider-Duck ? 
That is an interesting question. 

The answer to it — or perhaps I should say, the reason why 
they do not find the water too cold, even in mid-winter — is as 
follows. In the first place, the birds never really get wet. That 
is rather a startling statement, but if you will consider it for a 
moment you will see that it is true. You will remember what 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

we said about a Duck's toilet, and how it always takes great care 
to keep its feathers well oiled and nicely trimmed, so that the 
water cannot penetrate its plumage and its skin remains dry 
even when it spends hours on the water. Its clothing is water- 
proof ; but it is more than that — it is thick and warm ; in fact, 
it is a wonderful double garment of a very special kind. Under 
the feathers which you can see as the bird swims about, the 
' contour ' feathers, as they are called, because it is to them that 
the smooth curves and outline of its figure are due, there is a 
layer of soft down next to the skin. 

You know what swansdown is like, and how beautifully 
warm it is. Other birds besides Swans are clothed in a similar 
warm undergarment, though it may not be so thick — but that 
is what you would expect, because the Swan is an exceptionally 
large bird. The contour-feathers, then, form an oily, water- 
proof outer coat, beneath which is a warm, fleecy undergarment 
of down. The thickness varies in different parts of the body ; 
it is usually greatest on the breast and underside, where it 
sometimes exceeds an inch. But this is not, of course, an inch 
of solid feathers ; underneath the close-fitting contour-feathers 
there is a network of spaces filled with air, and this is very im- 
portant, for two reasons — firstly because air is a bad conductor 
of heat, and an air-jacket is therefore almost the warmest 
covering we are acquainted with, except a jacket with not even 
air inside it, but merely an empty space or vacuum ; and 
secondly because, being extremely light, it enables the bird to 
float high out of the water. Many birds, indeed, swim with 
their actual bodies entirely above the water, resting on what we 
may regard as an air-cushion cased in by the contour-feathers, 
their feet only being submerged. It is not surprising, therefore, 
that they do not suffer from the cold. 

But Nature has devised yet another means of protecting 
them, and that is by a thick layer of fat under the skin — just 
as whales and other warm-blooded marine animals are kept 
warm by the coat of fat which is known as 'blubber.' In 

199 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

those comical birds the Penguins, which are as thoroughly at 
home in the water as a seal and manage to hatch their eggs on 
an ice-floe, the layer of blubber is at certain times of the year 
enormously thick. 

Now let us see in what other ways birds are adapted for a 
life on and in the water. What about their shape, for instance 
— is that well adapted for swimming and diving ? Let us bear 
in mind that air and water are both Jluids, though one is 
gaseous and the other liquid ; we shall then realise that a solid 
body which is particularly well suited by its form for moving 
through the one fluid is very likely to be of a suitable shape 
for passing easily through the other. You know what is meant 
when you read about the 'lines' of a ship ; you know, too, how 
much importance is attached to the lines of a racing yacht 
— a SJiavirocli^ for instance, built to compete for the America 
Cup, or other great race. Well, the lines of a bird are as 
near perfection as possible for progress through the air with 
the least amount of resistance, and they are equally well 
adapted for a liquid medium, as it is called — that is to say, 
for water. They are not unlike the lines of a boat, for, as in a 
boat, there is a pointed fore part, swelling to a curve at the 
sides and narrowing off" again behind. Underneath, too, the 
resemblance still holds good, even to the name of that project- 
ing edge of the breastbone which we call the keel. Of course 
all water-birds are not built on exactly the same plan, just as 
all boats are not precisely the same shape, much depending on 
the conditions of sailing or the way in which they are pro- 
pelled. So we find that birds which are chiefly swimmers on 
the surface have different lines from birds which excel chiefly as 
divers or swimmers under the surface. A Duck, for example, 
which is an excellent swimmer but a very indifferent diver, may 
be compared to a lifeboat ; while a Penguin, which can perform 
marvels under water but is a much inferior performer at the sur- 
face, rather resembles a submarine. A Guillemot is something 
between the two, and is equally at home on or under the water. 




-GO*-" 



§.^« 



f^ t« S o g 






C 3 C S 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

The next question to consider is the means by which the 
birds propel themselves, and we find there are two — by the 
wings, like Auks and Penguins, or the feet, as in Ducks and 
Gulls. When the feet are not used as propellors, they gene- 
rally seem to serve the purpose of a rudder. The best position 
for either of these is, of course, as near the hinder end as 
possible, and if you will think of all the water-birds you have 
ever seen, you will find that their legs are nearly always placed 
very much further back than in other birds. You have only to 
compare a Duck with a Fowl in order to see the difference. 
When a bird is on land, this position of the limbs produces a 
very clumsy effect ; even a Duck walks awkwardly, but in 
many other birds, such as Auks, Puffins, and Penguins, 
whose legs are still nearer to the hinder extremity, the body 
has to be carried bolt upright, on end as it were, and the limbs 
being short, good walking becomes practically impossible. On 
land the Penguin moves by a series of hops, as though its feet 
were tied together. 

The feet of swimming birds are webbed, but the toes are not 
in all cases so completely connected as in Ducks, Gannets, and 
Cormorants ; there are various intermediate stages between 
these and the separate-toed feet of the perchers, climbers, 
waders, and runners. A Dabchick''s toes are curiously lobed — 
that is to say, they are fllattened out round the sides into a 
broad flap, but the flaps are only joined together for a little 
way at the beginning, so that the foot looks very much like a 
leaf with deep notches, such as a vine-leaf. Similarly in the Coot 
there are broad folds of skin round the sides of the toes, while 
the Moorhen's long toes have only a narrow fringe of mem- 
brane. Several birds, such as Grebes and Divers, have a 
flattened shank-bone, which makes the foot still more suitable 
for paddling. 

As we have already stated, some birds use their wings instead 
of their feet for swimming under the water. Water, of course, 
offers a much firmer resistance to the wing stroke than air ; a 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

wing that is used ior flying under water need not, therefore, be 
so large as a wing that is used for flying in the air, just as the 
paddle of a water-wheel need not be nearly so large as the sail 
of a windmill, though they are both used for the same work of 
grinding corn. Very large wings would be awkward to use, if 
not unmanageable, under water — as awkward, perhaps, as you 
would find it to try to swim with a tea-tray fastened to each 
hand. Guillemots, Razor-bills, and Puffins have to fly in both 
elements, and we find that in these birds the wings, though 
large enough to sustain them in the air, are short enough to be 
used with a certain amount of skill in the denser medium. 
But Nature has not been able to devise a wing that is qicite 
perfect for both these purposes, and the birds which excel all 
others in sub-aqueous flight, the Penguins, are absolutely 
incapable of flying in the air. A Penguin's wing is a flat 
paddle, and quite unlike the wing of any other bird; indeed, 
it is far more like the flipper of one of the great marine 
animals. It is totally devoid of quills, and at first sight it 
appears as though there were no feathers at all on it. If we 
examine it carefully, however, we find that it is covered with 
little scaly-looking feathers not much unlike the scales on the 
bird's legs, but they are true feathers, though very degenerate 
ones, and as different as possible from the ordinary kind. 

Ungainly as they are on land, and incapable of flight though 
they be in the ordinary meaning of the word, under water 
Penguins are most graceful performers, and as beautiful as they 
are graceful. The plumage gets a wonderful lustre from the 
silvery coat of air which clings to it when the birds dive, and 
which, to quote Mr. Cornish, " seems to fit them for everlasting 
flight in the palaces and grottoes of the sea-nymphs, across 
which they fly, bearing bubbles of sunlight from above, 
scattering them through the chambers like crystal globes of 
fire." Their flight may be watched and studied in the large 
glass tank at the ' Zoo,' and it is a marvellous exhibition of 
skill. Hopping from its pen to the side of the water, the bird 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

makes a very clumsy appearance, but the moment it has 
plunged below the surface it is transfigured. With short, 
rapid strokes of its paddle -wings it darts through the water, 
leaving a trail of glistening bubbles behind, and shoots forward 
with the speed of a fish, turning more rapidly than almost any 
bird of the air by strokes of the wing alone, the legs floating 
apparently inert in a line with the gleaming body, or giving an 
occasional upward kick to force it to greater depths. Fish after 
fish is seized and swallowed without a halt or the slightest 
slackening of speed, until the bird is satisfied by a final tour of 
the tank that none has escaped, when it scrambles out of the 
water and immediately becomes once more the clumsy, queer, 
ungraceful creature of a few minutes before. Some idea of a 
Penguin's pace in the sea may be obtained from the statement 
that the birds dart out of the water with sufficient impetus to 
enable them to land upon their feet on the top of an ice-floe a 
yard above the surface. Sometimes they leap not quite high 
enough, and fall back again with loud cries ; but they are as 
persevering as salmon leaping up a waterfall, and try again and 
again until they succeed. 

Fishing is, of course, the chief object of the diving birds' 
excursions under water. Occasionally they go to great depths 
after their prey, and a Shag was once caught in a crab-pot 
twenty fathoms below the surface. This species also may be 
watched at the 'Zoo.' It always begins its dive by jumping up 
in the water and taking a header, and then strikes hard upwards 
with both feet. You will see that it does not use its wings at 
all for swimming, but holds them quite still, lifted just a little 
away from its body. It strikes out with both feet simultaneously, 
and in this differs from the Darters (Plotus), which adopt an 
alternate stroke, as you may see for yourself by visiting the 
Diving-birds' House at feeding-time. 

The Darters are the very neatest of all the fresh-water 
divers, plunging into the water with the quickness of thought 
and disappearing almost without leaving a ripple. Though in 

203 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

their native haunts they are by no means shy, and many are 
usually found in the same neighbourhood, sportsmen find it very 
difficult to obtain more than a single specimen at one spot, 
because on the first shot being fired all the survivors tumble 
into the water from the overhanging branches on which they 
perch, and on rising, often more than a hundred yards from the 
place where they disappeared, show only their heads above the 
surface ; or perhaps it is not more than a sharp, pointed bill 
that is seen gently cutting the water as a bird makes its way to 
a patch of floating weeds, where it remains in hiding. Even a 
bird that is shot is very often not recovered unless it is instantly 
killed outright. If it be only wounded the chances are that it 
will never be seen again, for it dives at once, and if pursued 
clings with its feet to roots or plants under the water until it is 
dead. When travelling in Brazil, the Prince von Wied tried to 
shoot Darters from a boat which he allowed to float with the 
stream to a part of the river where they were swimming about 
with their slender necks only above the surface, but he usually 
found that his shot was wasted because the head disappeared 
before he could fire. When the birds are swimming about in 
this manner, as they very commonly do, the head and neck have 
a curiously snake-like appearance, which has earned for them 
such names as ' Snake-neck ' and ' Snake-bird.** 

In their natural haunts the Darters resemble Cormorants in 
their habits ; in captivity they are often more amusing. Dr. 
Bachmann kept one of them as a pet and found it very entertain- 
ing in its ways. It was tame from the very beginning, and 
used to follow him about the house and garden until it became 
rather a nuisance. On cold days it would go to the kitchen and 
battle with the cook and the dogs for the most comfortable 
place on the hearth. Sometimes it happened that no fish could 
be obtained and the bird did not get its meals regularly; on 
these occasions it gave the servants no peace owing to its 
incessant croak ings, its noisy protest against their apparent 
neglect being often emphasised by smart blows. 

204 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

A wounded Darter is by no means the only bird which clings 
to weeds at the bottom of the water in order to evade pursuit. 
Our familiar acquaintance the Moorhen, when shot at, often dives 
so quickly that the shot passes harmlessly over the place where 
a moment before the bird was quietly floating. After diving, 
it flies through the water at a great pace and conceals itself 
among the reeds or other vegetation, where it remains for a 
long time quite still with just enough of its bill out of the 
water to enable it to breathe, preventing its body from rising by 
clinging to the stems of water-plants with its long toes. I 
several times observed this manoeuvre at a pool above the 
Strathpefler golf-links, which had a particularly numerous 
population of Moorhens ; but the birds are usually common 
wherever they can find a suitable piece of water, so that by taking 
a little trouble anybody may witness for himself at least their 
sudden disappearance when alarmed while swimming. 

Very young chicks often instinctively adopt the same method 
of escape. The chicks of the Lotus-bird {Hydralector gallina- 
ceus\ one of those curious long-toed Jacanas already referred to 
in the chapter on Courtship, and an inhabitant of Queensland, 
are adepts in the art. In his book. Among Cannibals^ Lumholtz 
says : " The grown bird is not shy, but the young are extremely 
timid. I had once or twice seen the old birds with young, but 
as soon as I approached them, the young always disappeared, 
while the old birds walked about fearlessly, as if there was no 
danger. It long remained a mystery to me how they could 
conceal themselves so well and so long, but one day the prob- 
lem was solved. An old bird came walking with two 
young ones near shore. I hid behind a tree and let them 
come close to me. As I suddenly made my appearance, the 
small ones dived under the water and held themselves fast to 
the bottom, while I watched them for a quarter of an hour, 
before taking them up." 

Though the Darters and Moorhens seem to find it necessary 
to cling to some submerged object in order to prevent themselves 

205 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

from floating if they wish to remain motionless under water for 
any length of time, they do not find the same difficulty so long 
as they are swimming about. Darters, as we have seen, can 
swim quietly about with only their bill or head and neck above 
water, and quite a number of species are able to do the same. 
In the Argentine there is found a bird known as the Blue-billed 
Duck {Erismatu7^a ferrug'uiea) whose ways in the water are very 
interesting. As these Ducks sail quietly to and fro in the sun- 
shine, they often carry the tail cocked right up in the air at a 
sharp angle with the body. This gives them an odd appearance, 
but they look yet more peculiar when, still sailing quietly about 
on the water, they gradually sink deeper until nothing can be seen 
but a head and neck at one end, and, sticking up some distance 
from it, the tail. 

This habit introduces us to a puzzling question concerning 
many water-birds. We know that, like other birds, they have 
air-sacs distributed all over the body and connected with the 
lungs and breathing passages, which make the body very light 
in proportion to its bulk ; we also know that their thick 
plumage wraps them round like an air-cushion and makes them 
proportionately lighter still ; the result of these pneumatic 
arrangements being that many species float so high in the 
water that hardly any part of their body is below the surface — 
perhaps none. It is quite clear, therefore, why they can float 
with so much ease. But how do they sink ? It is not a 
question of diving ; about that there is no difficulty, for the 
bird can force itself down either by the movements of its wings 
or by kicking out with its feet. 

What is so difficult to understand is how a body that it 
would be no great exaggeration to speak of as being as light as 
cork can, without constant vigorous efforts, remain submerged. 
It is usually explained by saying that the bird expels the air 
from its air-sacs and thus makes itself heavy enough to sink, 
and no doubt there is a certain amount of truth in this, because 
there are muscle-fibres in the walls of the sacs which enable 

206 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

them to be compressed and emptied. But this explanation 
does not seem to be sufficient, because Divers, Grebes, Cormor- 
ants, and other related species, even when shot, float so lightly 
in the water that they scarcely make any noticeable depression 
in it, and they still float high though their dead bodies be 
squeezed in order to expel as much air as possible from 
the air-sacs and lungs, provided the plumage be not so 
badly damaged and disarranged as to allow the feathers to 
become water-logged. To indicate how extremely light for their 
bulk some of these birds are, we may say that the body of a 
Great Northern Diver, the bulk of which is about a cubic foot, 
weighs only fifteen pounds, while a cubic foot of sea-water weighs 
more than four times as much. But in addition to the solid 
parts there are the down and feathers to be considered, and all the 
warm — and therefore light — air which is entangled among them; 
in short, the complete air-jacket in which the bird is clothed. 
If a pair of bladders or ' water-wings ' will keep a full-grown 
human being afloat, how much more buoyant must a bird be 
that is wrapped in such a jacket ? 

Others have endeavoured to solve the problem by saying 
that the bird holds itself just beneath the surface by a con- 
tinued quiet paddling movement of the feet, or by holding on 
to something. Certainly the latter is no explanation, because 
in deep waters there is no convenient " something " for the 
bird to take hold of ; and the paddling movement seems to be 
out of the question in many cases. 

Herr Gatke, a Grand Old Man amongst ornithologists, who 
spent the whole of his long life in studying birds, relates the 
following story of a Cormorant which he observed in a pond in 
the Zoological Gardens at Hamburg. Large numbers of 
Swallows were flying over the surface of the water, and the 
greedy Cormorant looked upon them with covetous eyes. But 
a Cormorant does not hunt for prey in the air, and one would 
have thought the swift little Swallow would have been quite 
safe from attack. This Cormorant, however, was a wily bird. 

207 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

It immersed itself in the pond to such a depth that only its 
head was visible above the surface, and in this position it 
remained perfectly motionless. Herr Gatke was quite sure of 
this, because the least movement of its feet would have been 
betrayed at once on the glassy surface of the pond. There was 
nothing apparent to alarm the Swallows, which, foreboding no 
ill, frequently flew quite close to the murderous beak. When- 
ever the Cormorant thought it could reach one of them it shot 
out its head, quick as lightning, and made a snap at it. For 
some time it was unsuccessful, but at last it did actually 
manage to catch one of them, and after a few shakes in the 
water swallowed it. It then quietly sank its body as before, 
and drew back its neck ready to strike again on the next oppor- 
tunity. 

Here, then, was a water-bird which remained absolutely 
still in the quiet water of a pond and yet contrived to keep 
its body below the surface. As far as we can see, the only 
possible manner in which this could be done would be that the 
bird should, by some means, make its body just as heavy as an 
equal bulk of water. There is a kind of Penguin {Spheniscus 
magellanicus) described in the report of the Challenger 
Expedition, which is said to swallow stones for ballast when it 
is going on a diving excursion, and to vomit them up again at 
the mouth of its burrow on returning home ! If that be true, 
it is certainly very unusual, and we must try to discover some 
simpler and more convenient method of adjusting weight than 
the swallowing of pebbles. Let us suppose, as I think we may, 
that the bird can compress its air-sacs until they are practically 
empty ; the chief remaining cause of its lightness will then be 
the warm air which is held in the plumage. 

Now, it is known that birds can move their feathers, and very 
frequently do so. An angry Hen ruffles her plumage and 
makes herself look several sizes larger ; a Blue Titmouse, like 
scores of other birds, adds to his importance in the same manner 
when courting ; and birds of every species raise their feathers 
during the bath. The Capped Petrel (CEstrelata hcesitata), 

208 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

which is the best diver of its order and often remains below for 
several minutes, shakes the water off its back in a regular 
shower on coming up. 

But birds can also depress their feathers — that is to say, they 
can flatten them against the body, thus considerably diminishing 
their bulk. This is most often seen when fear predominates 
over anger, as when a Corncrake or the swift Road-runner 
(Geococcyx californianus) of the United States is running at top 
speed from its pursuers. It is perhaps most easily observed in 
Gulls, by lying flat on the ground at the top of a clifl" where 
these birds are numerous and watching them very carefully as 
they appear over the edge when soaring from below. As they 
come in sight they are startled to find themselves so near to a 
human being, and their feathers seem to tighten. 

We have said enough to show that birds are able to com- 
press their feathers, and it is perhaps just possible that Divers, 
Cormorants, Grebes, and others with similar habits of quietly 
submerging their bodies may be able to tighten their contour- 
feathers so that nearly all the air is forced out of the plumage, 
and their bulk by this means, combined with the emptying of 
the air-sacs, reduced just enough to enable them to sink. It is 
not easy to imagine a Great Northern Diver being able to do 
this, because he would have to make himself so very much 
smaller ; but it is a great deal harder to imagine any other sort 
of explanation. Perhaps even the lungs are emptied as much 
as possible when a bird wants to sink quietly — indeed this is 
very likely, because all the birds which remain just beneath the 
surface without moving, or clinging to anything with their feet, 
keep at least the tip of the beak above water, and being thus 
able to breathe can manage without any great store of air in 
the lungs ; while all the birds which go entirely under water, 
head and all, and stay there quite still for any length of time, 
can only maintain their position by clinging to a root or weeds 
or the stony bottom of the river, because, being entirely cut off 
from the air, they are obliged to take in a large supply of it 
before going under, just as you or I would take a deep breath 
o 209 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

before diving; and so much warm air inside them of course 
makes them very buoyant. 

All diving birds can get their back under water when sailing 
about, but the Great Northern Diver is a perfect master of the 
art. This handsome and striking bird is about three feet in 
length, and its summer coat is principally black, enlivened with 
white spots arranged in belts, and completed below by a waist- 
coat of lustrous, satiny white. It is common on all the coasts 
of the North Sea, coming as far south as Great Britain in the 
autumn ; but it breeds on the Faroe Islands and Iceland, and in 
Arctic America. When pursued by men in a boat, it first of all 
swims off at a great pace with the body almost covered ; if the 
chase is kept up it sinks a little deeper, still, however, keeping 
its head and neck above water ; and at last it goes right under 
and swims horizontally so rapidly that two good oarsmen can 
scarcely overtake it. Swimming under water gives not only the 
advantage of concealment and added safety from attack, but 
also the possibility of greater speed, because when swimming on 
the surface a lot of energy is wasted in producing waves. All 
the divers move almost sluggishly on the surface compared with 
their speed under water. Now and then the Great Northern 
Diver comes up to breathe, and if it finds that it is being 
overtaken on the straight course it tries strategy, turning off 
suddenly at an angle — a dodge which is often successful, for 
before it is discovered the boat is quite likely to overshoot the 
mark and give the hard-pressed bird a fresh start. 

It uses its large webbed feet only, when swimming; their 
situation far back on the body is, as we have already said, the 
best possible position for swimming, but it makes them of very 
little use for walking — indeed, the bird is said to move along the 
ground upon its breast and under surface by jerks after the 
manner of a seal, but pushing from behind with its feet. It 
does not ever help itself along with its wings like a Penguin, for 
while the Penguin's wings are mere flippers and well suited to 
this mode of progression, those of the Great Northern Diver are 
fairly large and well feathered. Awkwardness on land is not a 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

matter of much consequence to a bird which passes nearly the 
whole of its life on and in the water. Once on the wing, its 
flight is strong and it can mount to a great height, whence it 
occasionally plunges downward at almost incredible speed with a 
noise that may without exaggeration be described as thundering. 

Gannets also make tremendous plunges from the air when 
diving after fish. These birds require a good impetus to carry 
them below the surface, because their hollow bones and exten- 
sive air-sacs render them extremely light. Possibly the air-sacs 
and the thick plumage of the breast are useful as a buffer and 
break the force of the blow when the bird strikes the water. 
Sailors sometimes take a cruel advantage of these tremendous 
dives of the Gannets. They fasten some bait to a board of 
soft wood and allow it to float. The Gannet's beak is long and 
sharp ; seeing the bait, he dashes down upon it at tremendous 
speed, and is caught by his beak piercing the wood and there 
holding him fast. 

The Capped Petrel, already mentioned in this chapter, is 
now, unhappily, almost extinct. It poises itself in the air for a 
moment at a height of twenty or twenty-five feet, and then, 
folding its wings, takes a header into the water. The actual 
plunge is made with the wings open, and they are used under 
water much in the same manner as during flight. Petrels can 
easily be distinguished by the appearance of the nostrils, which 
are curiously prolonged over the top of the bill in the form of 
tubes. What the precise advantage of this peculiar arrange- 
ment is we do not know, but it may be in some way connected 
with their aquatic habits, like the membranes which guard the 
Pelican's nostrils. 

In swimming, webbed feet are spread out to their widest 
extent during the backward stroke and folded with the toes 
side by side and curved in such a way as to offer as little 
resistance as possible when being brought forward for the next 
stroke. Grebes, which have incomplete webs, but make up to 
some extent for the defect by the flattening of their shank- 
bones, use their limbs with a sort of feathering movement, the 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

leg being brought forward with the narrow edge of the shank 
towards the front, and the stroke being made with the broad 
surface flat, Hke the blade of an oar. . ' - 

Quite young water-birds, still clothed in down, are often 
wonderfully active and skilful swimmers, as indeed they need to • 
be if they are to have a reasonable chance of growing up, for 
they have many enemies. The worst of these in the case of our 
fresh- water swimmers are pike and rats, which devour many 
chicks in spite of the mother's frantic efforts to drive them 
away. No young birds are swift or active enough to evade the 
deadly dart of a voracious pike, but they are better able to take 
care of themselves when pursued by man. A family of Coots, for 
instance, consisting of seven or eight red-headed youngsters 
and the parents, makes very good progress on the water if fol- 
lowed in a boat. When overtaken, the old birds give the 
signal to disperse by a series of sharp clucks and look to their 
own safety. The young immediately scatter on all sides, and 
when hard pressed dive under the surface and paddle away with 
all their strength for twenty or thirty yards, when they are 
obliged to rise for breath. If a chick finds itself still pursued 
in the open, the same performance is repeated until the little 
bird is completely exhausted. It has been noticed that the 
downy covering soon loses its water-resisting power when the 
young bird is thus pursued, and that instead of appearing dry 
and nicely puffed out on rising it becomes sodden and spongy. 
If the fugitive can but contrive to reach the sanctuary afforded 
by a clump of weeds, however, its chances of escape are greatly 
increased. It seems suddenly to vanish, without a movement 
or a ripple to betray what has become of it, and it requires a 
sharp eye to detect it lurking under a floating leaf, its body 
completely submerged and its tiny beak projecting above the 
surface just enough to admit a supply of air. It will remain 
thus motionless for a considerable length of time until it 
thinks the danger is past. 

In rivers and ponds, birds such as Goots and Dabchicks have 
a fine instinct for choosing the best spot in ^vhich to lie con- 



SWIMMING AND DIVING 

cealed with the beak above water after a dive for safety. Herr 
Gatke describes how a Dabchick, which he himself observed, 
put its beak and eyes above water just where some floating 
fragments of dry grass and chips of wood made it particularly 
difficult to detect. This case is an interesting one in connec- 
tion with w^hat was said some pages back about submersion, 
because the pond in which the bird was swimming was about 
three feet deep and was absolutely free from weeds, so there 
was nothing whatever for the bird to cling to in order to hold 
itself under water. 

Coots, Dabchicks, and Moorhens are three of the best- 
known birds which frequent our fresh waters, and they have 
been several times referred to because it is an advantage, 
when possible, to illustrate habits by reference to familiaa- 
species. But there is another species, less common than these, 
that frequents our streams, which we cannot leave altogether 
unmentioned, because it is one of the most charming of British 
birds. This is the Dipper or Water Ousel, a dainty, clean, and 
spick-and-span little bird, and as romantic in its ways as any 
I know. The Dipper seems to embody in itself all the romance 
of the stream, and to enshrine in its beautiful black and white 
body the half-daring, half-timid, but wholly witching spirit of 
a water-nymph. Standing one moment on a mossy stone 
making quaint little courtesys, the next moment it is floating 
on the water singing a sweetly wild song ; it sinks below the 
surface of an eddying pool and moves along the bottom 
clutching the stones with its claws and helping its progress by 
means of its wings, half running, half flying, until it emerges 
once more, still spick-and-span, into the sunlight, and flies off, 
like a fairy creature who is at home in all the elements, to dis- 
appear through a waterfall curtain, behind which is hidden its 
cool, green, spray-drenched, moss-walled nest. 



213 



CHAPTER XIII 
PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

The Bald Eagle and the Osprey — An unequal contest— Pirate bands of 
Fish-Crows — Skuas and their victims — Disgorging the booty — Robbing 
the sportsman— Molly-mawks— Frigate-birds and Boobies— Methods of 
compulsion — Pelicans robbed by GuUs — The Woodpecker and the 
squirrel's storehouse— Appropriating nests and building material— Egg- 
thieves — How the eggs are carried— Stealing eggs from a sitting hen. 

WHAT boy is there who does not revel in a story of 
daring highway robbery or piratical adventure ? Of 
course we know that such things ought not to be, and 
we rejoice that in civilised countries piracy and brigandage 
belong to a past age, however it may be amongst the wilder 
races of mankind. Yet nobody will deny that these stories of 
lawless deeds and primitive instincts do stir the imagination 
and arouse the ever-youthful spirit of romance, and if we find 
that amongst birds there are robbers and freebooters who are 
always ready to deprive their weaker kindred by force or threats 
of what belongs to them, the story of bird-life in its romantic 
aspects would be sadly incomplete without some account of 
their doings. 

Such incidents are by no means rare in the daily life of many 
species, but here we must be content with a few of the more 
striking or picturesque examples. 

A freebooter who exercises his lawless calling openly in the 
sight of the world must have not only courage and daring, but 
must be able to enforce his will by strength of arms ; and what 
bird is better endowed with these qualities than the Eagle ? 
It is true that we usually regard him as the embodiment of 

214 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

bird-nobility — a daring hunter rather than a mere robber, and 
so he often is. But there are Eagles which often prefer to let 
other birds do their hunting for them, and which find it more 
to their taste to rob weaker species of their prey than to seek 
and kill on their own account. 

The most imposing of these piratical birds is the White- 
headed Sea-Eagle or Bald Eagle {Haliaetos leucocephalus) of 
North America, which, though somewhat smaller than the 
Golden Eagle, is a handsome and powerful bird with wings 
measuring six feet or more from tip to tip. It is a bold hunter 
as well as a robber, as Audubon's spirited description shows. 
That naturalist relates how the ruthless tyrant may be seen 
perched in an erect attitude on the highest summit of the 
tallest tree, from whence he surveys with stern and glisten- 
ing eye the scene beneath. He listens attentively to every 
sound, glancing around now and then lest even the light tread 
of the fawn should pass unheard. His mate is perched on the 
opposite bank of the river and, should all be silent, warns him 
by a cry to remain patient. At this well-known call the male 
partly opens his broad wings, inclines his body a little down- 
wards, and answers to her voice in tones not unlike the laugh 
of a maniac ; the next moment he resumes his erect attitude, 
and all is silent again. 

Soon the wild trumpet-like scream of a yet distant but 
approaching Swan is heard, and a shriek from the female Eagle 
comes across the stream, for she is fully as alert as her mate. 
The latter suddenly shakes himself, and with a few touches of 
his beak arranges his plumage. The snow-white bird is now in 
sight ; her long neck is stretched forward, her eye is on the 
watch, vigilant as that of her enemy. She approaches, however, 
and the Eagle has marked her for his prey. As the Swan 
is passing the dreaded pair, the male Eagle starts from his 
perch with an awful scream, that to the Swan's ear brings more 
terror than the report of a gun. Now is the moment to 
witness the Eagle's powers. He glides through the air like a 

215 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

falling star, and comes upon the timorous quarry which, in an 
agony of despair, seeks by various manoeuvres to elude the 
grasp of his cruel talons. It mounts, doubles, and would 
willingly plunge into the stream, were it not prevented by the 
Eagle which, long possessed of the knowledge that by such a 
strategem the Swan might escape him, forces it to remain in 
the air by attempting to strike it with its talons from beneath. 
The poor Swan has now become much exhausted, and its 
strength fails it ; it is almost at its last gasp, when its ferocious 
pursuer strikes with its claws the underside of its wing, and 
with irresistible power forces the bird to fall in a slanting 
direction upon the nearest shore. And now the Eagle presses 
down his powerful feet and drives his talons deep into the 
side of the dying Swan ; he shrieks with delight as he feels 
the last convulsions of his prey, and the female, who has 
watched every movement of her mate, sails down to the spot 
to participate in the banquet. 

A bird which can bring down a Swan is an opponent to be 
dreaded ; and there is abundant evidence of its power. Sheep 
and goats are often numbered amongst its victims, and it has 
even been known to overcome the cunning and wary fox. Nor 
is its prowess exercised only against creatures of the air and 
land. Dolphins and sturgeons are attacked with equal daring, 
and young dog-fish are seized as they swim beside their mother, 
for the bird does not hesitate to plunge deep into the water 
after its prey. But there is a more skilful fisher than he — that . 
inveterate enemy of the finny inhabitants of lake and river, 
the Osprey — and it is when the two take up their quarters in 
the neighbourhood of the same fishing-ground that the Eagle 
enters upon a career of piracy. 

Let us imagine the scene. In the early morning, as soon as 
the mist has cleared away from the surface of the water, the 
Osprey soars high above the river before beginning its day's 
work. After sailing at a great height for some time it 
descends in graceful curves nearer the water, and moves to and 

216 




A Famous Buccanelr 

The Bald Eagle of America is a notorious pirate and often rob:^ the Osprey of his prey, 
swooping down_ upon him with fiendish shrieks. For awhile the persecuted fisher maj' 
escape by swerving aside, but he is aluays compelled to give in eventually. 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

fro gazing into the depths in search of prey. It has not long 
to wait ; soon a fish is seen rising towards the surface, and the 
observant bird pauses in its flight, hovers motionless for a 
moment above the spot, and then, with wings closed and ever- 
increasing speed, darts down upon its victim. There is a 
splash as from a small cannon-ball falling into the water, and 
for some moments, perhaps, the bird disappears beneath the 
surface, to reappear and again take wing with a shiny, wrig- 
gling fish firmly grasped in its powerful talons. If the fish is a 
large one, the bird, weighed down by its burden, moves with 
slowly beating wings in laborious flight towards its eyrie. 

But high in the tree tops beside the shore, keenly watching 
every movement of the fisher, are a pair of Bald Eagles. They 
wait until he is well on his homeward journey, and then, with 
an awful shriek, one of the freebooters dashes down upon him. 
Well he knows the meaning of that terrible sound, too well he 
understands its menace. It is a command, as unmistakable as 
any ever uttered by a knight of the road, to " stand and de- 
liver." But he will not readily yield his precious booty, and as 
the aggressor rushes towards him like a thunderbolt, he swerves 
aside and evades the assault. The Eagle spreads his wings and 
tail to stop his downward course and sweeps in a rising curve 
with powerful strokes until he is in a favourable position to 
make another terrible swoop towards the weary Osprey. Again 
the harassed bird dodges, his complaining cries mingling with 
the loud shrieks of his persecutor. By this time the Eagle''s 
mate may have joined in the attack, but in any case the contest 
is an unequal one, and the fisher, handicapped as he is by the 
weight of his burden, is at length compelled to yield to superior 
prowess and to relinquish his spoil. A gleaming object drops 
from his claws, but before it touches the water it is overtaken 
and seized by the victorious Eagle and carried off' in triumph. 

This drama is repeated time after time, for, strange to say, the- 
Ospreys never seem to profit by experience, but prefer to endure 
persecution rather than forsaJie their chosen fishing-ground 

217 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

and the spot where they have made their home, even when there 
are no family ties to keep them there. Robbed of his dinner, 
the bird goes back to his fishing and may, if the appetite of his 
taskmaster is sated, be allowed to return in peace ; but some- 
times the weary round is repeated until it almost has the 
appearance of an unwilling but intentional service for the 
accommodation of the tyrant Eagle. 

The unfortunate Osprey is also victimised by bands of robbers 
who are far too weak to attack him singly, but are able, by join- 
ing forces, to make themselves so objectionable that he is glad 
to throw down his booty in order to escape. Nearly all Birds-of- 
Prey are held in hatred by the smaller members of the feathered 
race, and are mobbed by them whenever occasion offers. By force 
of numbers even Swallows and Wagtails will sometimes triumph 
over an Osprey, but more redoubtable foes are the pirate bands 
of Fish-Crows {Corvus ossifragus\ which sometimes chase him 
with open bill and extended claws. These Crows, which are a 
North American species, have a taste for maritime life beyond 
that of other kinds, though our own Carrion-Crows often haunt 
the sea-shore and make a meal of any animal which may be cast 
up by the waves. Tired birds which are drowned as they 
approach the end of their long migratory flight — and immense 
numbers perish in this manner — furnish a welcome feast to the 
watchful Carrion-Crow. 

The Fish-Crows, like the Bald Eagle, are in their way skilful 
hunters. They can easily catch the quaint and agile little 
Fiddler-Crabs,^ or dig them out of their burrows in the mud- 
flats, where they hide themselves at sight of their pursuers. 
They can also catch fish with considerable dexterity ; but they 
are always ready to seize an opportunity of turning robber. 
Sometimes they are no better than ' sneak-thieves "* ; they help 
themselves to the eggs, and even the young, of other birds, and 
if the owner is formidable enough to make such a proceeding 

^ Described in another volume of this series — The Romance of Animal 
Arts and Crafts, p. Q5. 

2l8 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

dangerous, as in the case of the Cormorant, they wait until the 
nest is left unprotected, and then quietly make away with the 
contents. The species which are most annoyed by these dusky 
robbers, however, are Terns and some of the smaller Gulls, 
which are pursued and attacked persistently until they are 
sometimes compelled to disgorge the small fish caught by them 
within sight of the Crows. But most Gulls fly far too well to 
be caught by a Crow, and so it often happens that the attack- 
ing party is frustrated in its attempts, and is obliged to return 
without plunder, to seek its food by more legitimate means in 
the eddies. 

The greatest experts in this peculiarly objectionable form of 
robbery are the piratical Skuas {Lestris), whose threatening man- 
oeuvres in defence of their nest are described in another chapter. 
In shape and plumage the Skuas, or ' Jaegers ** as they are some- 
times called, resemble Gulls, but they are so peculiar in several 
respects that we must regard them as forming a family by 
themselves. Short of neck and stoutly built, they have a 
strongly hooked bill and — what is a very unusual feature — stout, 
pointed, sharp-edged claws upon their webbed feet. Their 
plumage is for the most part of a dusky brown, and on the 
under side of the body is almost fur-like. They seem to com- 
bine the characters of a Gull with those of a Bird-of-Prey, for 
they resemble the latter not only in the possession of hooked 
bills and claws, but in their powerful flight and bold disposi- 
tion. They inhabit the colder regions of the earth, but both 
the Common and Richardson's Skua are found as far south as 
the extreme north of Scotland, and other species occasionally 
come to these islands as winter visitors. 

The Skuas might well be spoken of as good all-round athletes. 
They are excellent runners, swim beautifully, and in their flight 
may almost be compared to a Hawk or an Eagle. They rise 
into the air with ease, either from the sea or from level ground, 
and the variety of their movements on the wing is exceedingly 
interesting to watch. Sometimes they skim over the waves 

219 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

without the slightest apparent movement of the wings ; then, 
after slowly mounting, they sail to and fro with a few occasional 
rapid strokes to drive themselves onward. Suddenly they check 
their speed and seem to steady themselves to a halt with a 
rapid flutter before plunging obliquely downwards, as though 
toboganning on an invisible slide, towards the sea; then a great 
upward curve, a pause, and a mad series of twists and dashes 
and intricate windings — a delirium of flight. Their only weak- 
ness is in diving, wherein they appear to be sadly handicapped 
by their buoyant plumage. As fishers, therefore, they are not 
particularly successful, so they take advantage of their efficiency 
in other ways to profit by the industry of their neighbours. They 
are the winged pirates of the northern seas, dreaded by every 
bird that earns a livelihood by fishing. Gulls, Puffins, Guille- 
mots, and Terns alike are victimised by them, and no tyrant is 
more universally dreaded. Their appetite is as great as their 
activity, and the daring and ferocity with which they compel 
even such birds as are far larger than themselves to minister to 
the cravings of their ravenous greed are without parallel 
amongst birds. 

Their methods are similar to those already described in the 
case of the Fish-Crow, but that bird is a mere bungler compared 
with the Skuas. Always ready to attack, they watch the Gulls 
at their fishing, and as soon as they see that a capture has been 
made, they dash towards the successful fisher with the full 
determination of compelling him to yield up his prey. They 
are not in the least deterred by the fact that the fish has al- 
ready been swallowed. Hotly pursued, it is impossible for the 
Gull to escape ; the pirate sails down upon him as easily as a 
Falcon upon a Duck. Time after time he rushes in with 
savage screams : the Gull turns and dodges and strives vainly to 
evade the impetuous attack of his tormentor, who at last, by 
two or three sudden dashes, forces him to disgorge his meal. 
He may now go in peace and renew his fishing, while the Skua 
enjoys his dinner at leisure or turns his attention to fresh 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

victims. Some of the more vigorous Gulls show fight, but most 
birds turn tail and flee at his approach, or, if possible, dive out 
of sight. But he is far too cunning and impetuous to be often 
beaten in the contest. 

His marauding habits are not confined to mere bullying and 
robbery, for it not unfrequently happens that he will attack any 
sea-bird that is so unfortunate as to be caught while engaged in 
hunting for worms or molluscs on the shore, and, not satisfied 
with making it yield its food, will kill and devour the bird itself, 
striking it dead with a single shattering blow of his beak. 
Wounded birds are torn to pieces without pity, and nests are 
plundered in the most audacious fashion. Nordmann, writ- 
ing of the Common Skua, says that as he wings his way towards 
a rock whereon thousands of birds have made their nests, he is 
greeted by a general shriek of abhorrence, yet not one of the 
brooding birds ventures to offer serious resistance to the invader. 
He snatches the young birds from the very beaks of their 
parents, who follow in angry protest a little way, but soon give 
up the hopeless pursuit. He carries his prey to the sea and 
devours it ; then remembering his own hungry nestlings, he flies 
home to them and disgorges his meal to satisfy their demands 
for food. 

When making his raids he appears to use no weapon besides 
his beak, but it seems likely that his formidable claws may also 
be resorted to in a vigorous attack. After an abundant 
meal the Skua sits quietly on a rock for some time, with his 
feathers puffed out, apparently enjoying a luxurious nap until 
— and it is not very long to wait — the calls of hunger again 
stimulate him to fresh misdeeds. 

The Skuas seem to be entirely devoid of fear, and will even 
attack an Eagle if it comes too near the nest. Their bold and 
gluttonous nature renders them easy to capture, for they will 
greedily swallow almost any bait that is offered to them, and 
they have little more respect for man than for the birds which 
they rob. Mr. Seebohm, in his book on The Birds of Siberia^ 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

states that on one occasion when he had just discharged both bar- 
rels of his gun, bringing down two Dunlins and a Little Stint, a 
couple of Buffon's Skuas suddenly flew down upon the latter bird 
where it lay a few feet off, quarrelled over it, and carried it off 
before he could wade through the mud to the rescue. 

Some birds make a regular practice of following sportsmen 
on the chance of flying off* with game that falls to the gun. 
The Bald Eagle varies his piracy in this manner, and in winter 
shooting it is no very rare occurrence for one of these birds to 
keep a watch over the gunner's movements and swodp down 
and carry away any bird that drops at a sufficient distance 
from the stand, before it can be retrieved; sometimes, however, 
the Eagle becomes the victim of his own manoeuvres, for he 
mistakes a wooden decoy for an unsuspecting bird, and in 
stooping to it is shot dead by the gunner who lies hidden 
within a circle of heaped-up seaweed. 

In some places Skuas get on terms of great familiarity with 
fishermen and accompany their boats to the fishing -ground 
for the sake of the refuse and garbage which is thrown to 
them. The fishermen consider their presence a lucky omen — 
a favourable opinion which is not shared by any other living 
creature. 

If there is " honour among thieves,"" the Skuas are an excep- 
tion to the rule. During the Discovery Expedition to the 
Antarctic, Dr. Wilson saw a McCormick's Skua {Megalestris 
maccormicki) swoop down on a neighbour's nest and fly off^ 
with an egg in its beak when the owner was only a few yards 
away. The bird whose nest had been robbed started after the 
thief in fierce pursuit and forced him to give up his booty, but 
the stolen egg was of course smashed on the rocks. 

These birds begin to give a taste of their quality almost as 
soon as they leave the egg. Tiny chicks not more than a day 
or so old have been seen to drop a tempting morsel of fish, 
brought to them by their parent, for the possession of which 
they had been wrestling with all their might, and to engage in 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

a fierce stand-up fight for it. Though no larger than barn- 
door chicks of the same age, they were ah*eady armed with 
formidable claws and bill, and they went for one another like 
little furies until they were both exhausted. 

Although two chicks are almost invariably hatched (unless 
a neighbour has previously stolen one of the two eggs), it is 
seldom that more than one of the youngsters survives, the 
other almost invariably becoming a meal for the first 
McCormick's Skua that can snatch it from the nest. The 
favourite food of these robbers with the Scotch name, how- 
ever, consists of the eggs and chicks of Adelie Penguins. The 
Skuas nest in company with the little Penguins, and it is not 
one of the least eccentric characteristics of those quaint birds 
that they seem never to molest their enemies even when they 
make their quarters in the very midst of the penguinery. The 
swarthy robbers stand around the groups of dapper Penguins 
apparently on the best of terms with them ; but appearances 
are indeed deceptive, for the moment a baby Penguin wanders 
a few feet away from its companions, one of these dreadful 
brown-coated brigands pounces upon it, and in an instant the 
unfortunate little creature is dead and being torn to pieces 
within a few feet of its nest. Now and then, when one of their 
undesirable neighbours approaches with evidently felonious 
intentions, all the Penguins round about do their best to shout 
him off, but they rarely succeed in this. When young Penguins 
are not in season these Skuas subsist on a diet of fish which is 
supplied to them, under compulsion of the usual kind, by 
Petrels. Occasionally they do a little fishing on their own 
account. 

According to Captain Hutton, another bird which has a taste 
for piracy on the high seas is the Black-browed Albatross 
(Diomedea melanophrys)^ a bird which is common round Cape 
Agulhas and is known to sailors as a ' Molly-mawk.' This 
bird sometimes does its own fishing, but it generally prefers, 
when anything good to eat is under water, to let a Petrel 

223 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

— or some other bird of similar habits — fish it up; then, 
giving chase, croaking and running along the top of the water 
with outstretched wings, it compels the Petrel to drop its 
captive, which it seizes before it has time to sink. 

Similar tactics are followed by those marvellous fliers — the 
most marvellous of all, some people consider — the Frigate-birds 
{Fregeta aquila). These birds were so named by our sailors on 
account of their swiftness on the wing, and their habit of 
cruising about near other species and daringly pursuing them 
with hostile intent. Their usual victims are Tern, small Gulls, 
and especially Boobies {Sida piscator). The last-named 
species, a kind of Gannet, is one of several birds which have 
been endowed with this uncomplimentary title by seamen on 
account of their stupidity in alighting on ships and allowing 
themselves to be easily taken by the hand. In some old 
narratives of voyages. Boobies are uncompromisingly called 
' Fools ' ; no doubt the milder term was picked up from 
Spanish or Portuguese sailors of those days, for in their 
language *fool' would be 'bobo,' a word easily converted 
into ' booby ' in the foVsle of an adventurer. 

The doings of these birds are so quaintly narrated by Leguat 
that we cannot do better than quote his account of their 
relations with the Frigate-birds, which runs as follows : — 

" The Fools come evVy Night, and Roost in the Island ; and 
the Frigats which are larger, and so caird, because they are light, 
and admirable Sailers, lie in wait for them on the top of the Trees, 
from whence they flounce down upon them like Falcons on their 
Prey, not to kill them, but make them bring up the Fish 
that is in their Craw, which the Fool as soon as it is thus struck, 
is forcM to do. The Frigat catches it always before it comes 
to the Ground : The Fool cries, and sometimes is very unwilling 
to part with its Prog, but the Frigat who is a bolder and 
stronger Bird, laughs at its Cries, mounts into the Air, and 
down he flounces again upon it, seizes upon the Throat, and 
do's so till he has compelFd it to obey."" 

224 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

According to Mr. H. O. Forbes, the Gannets in the Keeling 
Islands are encouraged to obey by a somewhat less violent but 
equally effective method, refractory individuals being seized by 
the tail by the Frigate-birds and treated to a shake that rarely 
fails of successful results. 

Like Skuas, Frigate-birds steal from one another when- 
ever they get an opportunity. Mr. Palmer, who collected 
birds for the Hon. Walter Rothschild in Laysan and the 
neighbouring isles, writes in his diary : " While walking 
in Laysan I turned some of the Frigate-birds which had young 
oiF their nests. Scarcely had I pushed one off when another 
Frigate-bird would rush up, seize the young one, fly off, and 
eat it. Sometimes the parent bird would give chase, but 
it always ended in one or the other eating the young bird. 
I could scarcely believe my own eyes, so I tried several ; but 
they would even take young birds out of the nest which were 
almost fully feathered.^' 

The bold and interfering behaviour of various kinds of Gull 
when anything of the nature of food — or even anything which 
looks in the least as if an enterprising Gull could manage to 
swallow it — is in question, is well known. Audubon gives a 
very amusing instance of their impudent meddling with the 
business of other birds, the species concerned being the Black- 
headed Gull (the Gull with which, as a winter visitor, Lon- 
doners have in recent years become familiar), and the Brown 
Pelican. The Pelicans used to be found in great numbers at 
various places along the coast of the Southern States, where 
they carried on their fishing in the shallower waters and 
lagoons. The same localities were the haunt of immense 
numbers of the Gulls. When a Pelican plunged headlong 
into the water, with his great pouched bill spread open like a 
net, several of the watchful Gulls would sail up gracefully on 
widespread wings, and when the brown bird emerged to drain 
off the water from his pouch before swallowing the numerous 
little fishes contained in it, one of them would nimbly alight 
P 225 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

on his very head to demand a share of the catch. The 
Pelican, displeased and disconcerted by such excessive famili- 
arity, bungles a little over straining his fish, and probably 
opens his bill to resent the rudeness of his unbidden guest. 
That gives the Gull his opportunity, and with a gentle stoop 
he adroitly helps himself to one of the glittering fry in the 
pouch and makes off with it. " At times," says Audubon, 
"several Gulls would attempt to alight on the head of the 
same Pelican, but finding this impossible they would at 
once sustain themselves around it, and snatch every morsel 
that escaped from the pouch of the great bird. So very 
dexterous were some of the Gulls at this sport, that I have 
seen them actually catch a little fish as it leaped from the yet 
partially opened bill of the Pelican." He also states that they 
follow and tease porpoises in the same manner. 

Other naturalists have not succeeded in observing the Gulls 
behaving in this way, so piracy may not be a regular habit 
with them ; but however that may be, persecutors do occasion- 
ally lie in wait for the Pelican to rob him on his homeward 
journey — birds more to be dreaded than the impudent, but not 
aggressive. Gull. These are the Caracaras {Polyhoriis\ whose 
falconine structure and predatory habits enable them to make 
themselves very unpleasant towards the Pelican. As he flies to 
the nest with laden crop, the Caracara suddenly attacks him 
from above, darting dov/n with shrill screams and striking 
with his talons until the poor bird is compelled to pay the 
price of peace. The fisher is never attacked as he goes to the 
water ; his tormentors have enough intelligence to await his 
return, and they do not pounce until he is over land, lest the 
fish which is disgorged should fall into the water before it can 
be seized. One of the South American Caracaras is said to 
pursue Cranes in the same manner. 

Another Bird- of- Prey, the Indian Tawny Eagle (Aquila 
vindhiana), is not more particular about its food, or the way in 
which it obtains it, than the Bald Eagle of America, for it 

226 



r 



}/ 




y^, 



/'H 



-^ 



i ' 



Bird Pirates 

Black-headed gulls teasing a brown pelican, and alighting on its head to rob it of 
the fish with which it has filled its pouch. 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

subsists to a great extent by robbing its smaller allies, such as 
Kites and Falcons. It is the commonest species of Eagle in 
most parts of India, and is a great nuisance to falconers on 
account of its troublesome habit of pursuing tame Falcons, 
mistaking for prey the jesses which are attached to their legs. 

Bird robbers and thieves are far too numerous for all to be 
mentioned, but we will give a few of the most notable examples. 
They usually direct their unwelcome attention to the nests or 
eggs of other birds, but that is not invariably the case, for it may 
happen that a squirrel or some other small animal is the victim. 
In the cypress-swamps and thickly wooded districts of the 
United States, where it makes its home, that fine bird the 
Ivory-billed Woodpecker {Campephilus principalis) has often 
been seen to break up a squirrePs winter storehouse in order to 
help itself to the nuts and acorns. A few strokes are sufficient 
to scatter the store in all directions, for these birds can use 
their terrible, spike-like bill with tremendous effect, as the 
following remarks of Wilson about one of them will show • 
" On being caught it uttered a loudly reiterated and most 
piteous note, exactly resembling the violent crying of a young 
child, which terrified my horse so much as nearly to have cost 
me my life. ... I carried it with me under cover to Wilmington. 
In passing through the street its cry surprised every one within 
hearing, particularly the females, who hurried to the doors and 
windows with looks of alarm. I drove on, and on arriving at 
the piazza of the hotel where I intended to put up, the landlord 
came forward and a number of other persons, all equally alarmed 
at what they heard. This alarm was greatly increased by my 
asking whether they could find accommodation for myself and my 
baby ; the man looked blank and foolish, while the others stared 
with still greater astonishment. After diverting myself for a 
minute or two at their expense, I drew my Woodpecker from 
under the cover, and a general laugh took place. 

" I took him upstairs and locked him in my room while I went 
to look after my horse. In less than an hour I returned, and on 

227 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

opening the door he set up the same distressing shout, which 
now appeared to proceed from grief that he had been discovered 
in his efforts to escape. He had mounted along the side of the 
window, nearly as high as the ceiling, a little below which he 
had begun to break through. The bed was covered with large 
pieces of plaster ... a hole opened large enough to admit the 
fist close to the weather boards ; so that in less than another 
hour he would certainly have made his way through. I now 
tied a string to his leg, fastened him to the table, and again left 
him. As I reascended the stairs I heard him again hard at 
work, and on entering had the mortification to find that he 
had almost ruined the mahogany table. While engaged in 
taking a drawing of him, he cut me severely in several places, 
and, on the whole, displayed such an unconquerable spirit that I 
was frequently tempted to restore him to his native woods." 

It is clear that a squirrel would have no chance of defending 
its property against such a robber. As a matter of fact, a far 
less powerful bird, our own Nuthatch, is said sometimes to 
drive out squirrels from their nest and to take possession of it. 

The irrepressible Sparrow often drives Swallows from their 
home and utilises it as a nursery for its own family. There are 
stories of Swallows having taken vengeance for the injury by 
assiduously building a mud wall over the entrance to the nest 
and thus imprisoning the robber ; we will not go so far as to 
say that this is impossible, but it is very difficult to believe that 
the intruder would not easily drive away the owners of the nest 
with his sharp bill if they attempted to punish him in this way, 
or that he would have the least difficulty in breaking down the 
prison wall of mud while it was still soft. It is usually possible 
to distinguish at once a nest that has been thus appropriated, 
for Sparrows are untidy birds, and you are pretty sure to see 
bits of straw or other rubbish sticking out of the opening when 
they are in possession. They have been known to bm^y the 
original nest altogether, in a mess of litter. 

The appropriation of an entire nest is, however, a rare 
228 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

offence compared with the theft of building material. It must 
be confessed that nearly all bii'ds of social habits at the time of 
nesting are ready to spare themselves the trouble of hunting for 
material and carrying it home if they can steal what belongs to 
a neighbour. I have often watched Rooks attempting to filch 
sticks from another nest in the rookery, but they have usually 
failed, for even when they have not been detected by the 
owners — and it is seldom that one or other of them is not keep- 
ing an eye on the nest — and promptly driven off or made to 
drop the stolen property, other birds of the colony have inter- 
fered ; whether from jealousy, or, as is more likely, from a self- 
protective respect for personal property when another bird is 
the offender, it is difficult to say. If a stick is actually 
removed, it is lost altogether, even when the thief is not 
allowed to keep possession of it, for it is a curious fact that 
these remarkably intelligent birds never pick up twigs that have 
fallen from the nest, but go to hunt for fresh material else- 
where. At first sight this appears foolish, for why should the 
birds laboriously carry sticks, often from a considerable distance, 
when there is an abundant supply lying under the very tree in 
which the nest is situated.? The explanation is really quite 
simple. It would be an impossible feat for a Rook to fly- 
straight up to its nest from the ground beneath, burdened with 
the weight of a stick. He must rise obliquely, and to do that 
he would be obliged to bear the stick axvay from his tree first, 
before flying to the nest with it. So you see the Rook's 
behaviour in these circumstances is quite in keeping with his 
reputation for wisdom. 

There can be no doubt, indeed, that the birds in which 
intelligence has reached its highest development are those of 
the Crow family, and when they are intent on plunder they 
often give evidence of a great deal of ingenuity. Nearly all of 
them have a fondness for eggs as an article of diet ; conse- 
quently egg-stealing has become with many species quite an 
art. An egg is an awkward thing to hold, and if it is too 

229 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

large to be grasped in the bill, how is the bird to carry it 
away ? Rooks, Crows, Jackdaws, and Magpies have solved this 
problem in a manner worthy of Columbus himself. Their 
method is to run their bill neatly through the shell, and carry 
it spitted thus as upon a skewer. The American Magpie 
{Pica pica Tiudsonicd) invariably deals with Hens'' eggs in this 
way, and Jackdaws on the Bass Rock carry off sea-birds'* eggs 
in the same manner. Mr. Dixon says these Jackdaws make 
regular plundering expeditions ; and as about twelve thousand 
Gannets nest on the rock there is plenty of scope for their 
depredations. 

One of the most notorious birds of Canada and the older 
States is the common Blue Jay. It is as conspicuous on account 
of its bad habits as for its brilliant blue plumage and fine man- 
ner and bearing. In nesting-time it is common to hear the 
lamentations of birds whose young it has carried away, and the 
number of eggs it devours is enormous. It is a bully of the 
worst type ; . sneaking and cowardly when it meets with any 
resistance, cruel when it finds a bird wounded or in any way at 
a disadvantage, and merciless to the smaller kinds. " There is 
little doubt," writes Mr. Manly Hardy, "that they destroy many 
nests of eggs and young ; all of the small birds say so. Let a 
. . . Pigeon come among them and you hear no outcry, and a 
Flicker or any other Woodpecker creates no disturbance ; but 
let a Blue Jay, Grackle, or Crow put in an appearance, and every 
bird in range begins to call him a thief, and I never knew them to 
slander their neighbours. Just think it over and see how this 
agrees with your experience."" As a rule this is, no doubt, true; 
small birds mob and abuse any individual of species which 
they have good reason to regard with hatred ; but they do 
occasionally make a mistake or " slander their neighbours," or 
they would not surround and revile a quite harmless (to them, 
at all events) and merely bewildered Owl that has been so 
unfortunate as to have left the seclusion of its roosting-place 
while the daylight birds are going about their business. 

230 



PIRATES AND ROBBERS 

The Caiifornian Jay {Aphehcoma californica) is no better than 
its blue cousin; in fact, it is regarded as one of the greatest 
nuisances among birds, for it will eat eggs at the farms as fast 
as the Hens lay them, three or four Jays hurrying to the feast 
at the first cackle. 

Some birds, however, go to even greater lengths than this in 
order to satisfy their passion for eggs. The curious Sheath-bill 
or Paddy {Chionis alba), a bird that looks something like a white 
Pigeon with a big, ugly beak, and is really allied to both Oyster- 
catchers and Gulls, is peculiarly shameless in its thieving. Its 
home is about the shores of Antarctic seas, where it haunts 
Penguin rookeries and colonies of Shags, and Dr. Harvey Pirie 
of the Scotia saw one actually boring under the wing of a 
Shag as it sat on its nest, in order to suck the eggs ! The 
Paddy's own nest might serve as an index of its character, for 
it is built largely of egg-shells and Penguins' bones. 

It might be thought that here we had reached " the limit,'' 
as they say in America ; but Professor Ritzema Bos, in his 
interesting book on Animal Foes and Friends, says : " I myself 
have often noticed a Rook or a Hooded Crow sheltered on the 
branch of a tree near the nest of a tame Duck, till this had 
finished laying an Qgg. As soon as this was done, and the Duck 
had left her nest, the Crow flew down to feast on the warm 

It would be possible to go on giving interesting examples of 
this aspect of bird nature almost indefinitely ; but there is an 
element of comedy in this picture of the Crow patiently waiting 
for the simple-minded Duck to provide him with a hot lunch 
which tempts us to leave the subject there. 



231 



CHAPTER XIV 
FLIGHT 

The machinery of flight — The hght construction of a bird — The Hghtest bird 
many times heavier than air — Power of flight dependent on rapidity of 
wing-movement — Style of flight dependent on shape of wing — Steering — 
Formation and order of flocks — Closing up the ranks — Speed of birds in 
full flight — Gliding, soaring, and hovering — The problem of the soaring 
bird— The height to which birds soar— Birds and ships in mid-ocean. 

EVEN Solomon had to confess that " the way of an eagle 
in the air" was one of the things which he found too 
wonderful for him ; and although many wise and learned 
people since Solomon's day have devoted a great deal of study- 
to the flight of birds, it cannot be said that they have arrived 
at a full understanding of it. 

Before we turn our attention to flight itself we ought to 
know something concerning the machinery by which it is per- 
formed. In the first place, as we have already mentioned in 
speaking of swimming birds, it is important, if rapidity of 
movement is to be attained, that the moving body shall be 
of such a shape as to be affected as little as possible by the 
resistance of the air or other medium through which it moves. 
In other words, it must have good 'lines,'' just as a racing 
yacht or other vessel that is built for speed must have good 
lines. How does a bird's body meet this requirement ? 

If you examine the skeleton of a bird you will see that the 
trunk bears a rough resemblance to the hull of a ship with a 
very deep keel, not unlike the keel of a yacht. That already 
promises well for swift progression ; but the shape of the living 
bird is even better, for the curves are continued forwards into 

232 



FLIGHT 

the neck and taper off behind to the tail, thus presenting an 
outline beautifully adapted for easy locomotion. Movement 
through the air is further facilitated by the arrangement of 
the close-fitting, overlapping feathers, all pointing backwards 
towards the tail. 

The wings are set high upon the trunk, the heaviest part of 
which is formed by the great mass of muscles on either side of 
the breastbone, attached to the deep plate of bone which forms 
the keel. These muscles are the chief instruments for working 
the machinery of the wings, and their position at the lowest 
part of the body gives them all the value of ballast and adds 
very greatly to the stability of the whole machine during flight. 

Each wing consists of three parts arranged in the form of the 
letter Z, the top of which corresponds to the upper arm, the 
downward stroke to the forearm, and the lower horizontal 
stroke to the hand. In birds only three of the original five 
fingers are left, and one of these, the thumb, is extremely small. 
The other two are bound together and form a rigid rod. Each 
division of the arm bears a series of long, broad quill or flight 
feathers, those on the hand being known as primaries^ those on 
the forearm as seconda7ies» while those which are nearest to the 
body — that is to say on the upper arm — are called tertiaries. 
The use of the tertiaries is to close the gap which would other- 
wise be left between the body and the main part of the wing 
(bearing the primaries and secondaries) during flight, and 
which would seriously interfere with the efficiency of the 
machine, especially in long-armed birds such as the Albatros. 

We will not enter into details concerning the other sets of 
feathers with which the wing is provided, but will refer merely 
to the chief quills or flight feathers, which are borne on the 
forearm and hand. These feathers are attached in such a 
way that when the wing is extended they are spread out in neat 
order by a band of elastic tissue which stretches from the hand 
to the armpit, and through which they pass. Owing to the manner 
in which the feathers overlap, and to an ingenious arrangement 

233 



FLIGHT 

of little tendons, the secondary feathers are pressed close to- 
gether during the downward stroke of the wing and present an 
even, unbroken surface to the air, while during the upstroke 
they twist round so that the webs separate and let the air 
through. But for this arrangement the bird would lose during 
the upstroke much of the advantage which it gains by the 
downstroke of the wing, by which the body is propelled. 

Each quill feather consists of a central shaft with a great 
number of little branches which spring from it on each side and 
are elaborately hooked together to form the vane of the feather. 
The whole wing is constructed for lightness and strength, and 
is made up, as Mr. Headley neatly expresses it, of very little 
besides " masts, sails, and cordage." 

Many of the bones of a bird contain air-spaces which are con- 
nected with extensive air-sacs in the body, and these with the 
lungs ; but in spite of its light build a bird is still very heavy 
when compared with air, and is obliged to raise itself chiefly by 
muscular effort, though aided to some extent by a kite or para- 
chute-like action. The warm air in their bodies never enables 
birds to float about like balloons, as some writers appear to 
believe. 

Ordinary flight imdoubtedly requires a great deal of energy, 
and that is why birds have a rapid circulation and breathe 
quickly ; which again is why they have big appetites. 

Flight is always begun by a standing or running jump, and 
whenever possible agahwt the wind, the force of which, acting 
on the sloping surface of the wing, helps to raise the bird. The 
jump is followed or accompanied by a rapid flapping of the 
wings, especially when the bird starts its flight from the 
ground. When once it is under way only a small proportion 
of the push of the wing is required to sustain the body, the rest 
of the force, owing to the direction of the wing-stroke, being 
used to thrust it forward. 

Some birds, such as the smallest Humming-birds, measure 
not more than three inches from the tip of one wing to that of 

234 



FLIGHT 

the other ; while others, like the Albatross, have wings which 
spread for twelve or fourteen feet. A bird's power of flight 
does not depend so much upon the length or shape of its wings 
as upon the rapidity with which they can be moved. In the little 
Humming-bird this is so great that when it is hovering in front 
of a flower its body, head, and tail appear to hang in a halo of 
mist, which is all there is to show that the bird possesses wings 
at all. The Humming-bird's flight, indeed, is not unlike that 
of an insect, and the resemblance is increased by the rapid darts, 
ending in a sudden poise, in which the bird so often indulges. 

A bird's style of flight, on the other hand, depends very 
greatly upon the shape of the wing ; indeed, it is almost possible 
for an ornithologist to tell you, when shown a wing, what is the 
character of its owner's flight. You will realise that this may 
be so if you will compare the short, whirring flight of a 
Partridge, with its short, rounded wings, and the easy, skimming, 
long-sustained movements of a Swallow, whose wings are long 
and pointed. 

The way in which birds steer their bodies through the air is 
not well understood, but there is no doubt that wings, tail, 
head, and feet all play their part. Some species show the most 
marvellous skill in turning and steering, and as an example of 
these we may take the Yellow-billed Cuckoo {Coccyzus 
americamis\ or 'Rain Crow,' of North America, which fre- 
quents woods and dense thickets. This bird threads its way 
amidst the closest foliage, and pursues a tortuous course through 
a maze of boughs with the utmost freedom. Flying now side- 
ways, now forwards, turning, twisting, or doubling at right 
angles, it flits hither and thither with as much apparent ease as 
if passing through clear, unobstructed space. In this case the 
complicated movements are evidently greatly assisted by the 
long tail, which may be seen swinging about like a rudder ; and 
the same applies to many other birds. Some of the web-footed 
birds with short tails, such as the Murres ( Uria lomvia arra) of 
the Northern Seas, steer by means of their feet, which they 

235 



FLIGHT 

spread out or contract as occavsion requires. The Murres swarm 
like flies, in uncounted millions, about rocky islands in the 
Behring Sea. 

There appears to be no sort of organisation about a flock of 
Murres or Gulls, but many of the birds which associate in 
flocks and undertake long flights arrange themselves in orderly 
ranks which are often very characteristic of the species, and it 
is frequently possible to make a good guess as to what kind of 
birds they are even when they are so far away that the indivi- 
dual members of the flock cannot be clearly distinguished. A 
very favourite formation is that of a wedge or > (see illustra- 
tion, p. 258), the two branches of which are generally of unequal 
length. This order is assumed by the common Wild Duck, as 
well as by Grey Lag Geese and Swans, and it is beautiful to see 
the way in which the birds break up and re-form their ranks 
when they change the direction of their flight. The leader of 
the party — that is to say, the bird at the point of the wedge, 
where it cleaves the air — has by far the most fatiguing position, 
and when he becomes weary he falls in the rear and a neighbour 
takes his place. From time to time as the flock passes on- 
wards the leader utters a loud cry or scream, as if to inquire 
whether all is well behind, and is answered by what is no doubt 
an " all's well "*' cry from some of the birds occupying the rear 
ranks. 

Grey Lag Geese appear to fly In families, presumably with the 
old gander at the apex as leader. Sometimes two or three 
families join together into a string, but instead of all uniting 
into one large >, each family forms its own little party, and 
altogether they make up a series of Vs or W's, of which first one 
and then another takes the lead. In the nesting season, when 
they fly in pairs, the gander almost invariably follows behind 
the goose, no doubt recognising the enhanced importance of 
his mate at that time of the year. 

Cranes also form a > or ^ shaped line and, like Swans and 
Geese, fly very high and at great speed. All these birds keep 

236 



FLIGHT 

their ranks with the skill of a regiment of soldiers and as if 
actuated by one mind, every movement being conducted with 
wonderful regularity. Some birds, such as Flamingoes, which 
arrange themselves in long uniform files, bird behind bird, 
even keep time in the beating of their wings. 

The Black Brant, which moves with short, rapid, energetic 
strokes at a greater speed perhaps than any other kind of 
Goose, adopts a line formation, the birds forming a single rank 
side by side at right angles to their course, so that it is possible 
to see the entire strength of a flock at a single glance along its 
front. The birds ' dress up,' as a drill-sergeant might say, so 
close together that the tips of their wings almost touch. The 
whole company, which sometimes forms a line several hundred 
yards in length, seems to be governed by a single will and con- 
stantly moves in unison. At one moment it will glide along 
but sixty feet or so from the ground, then suddenly, and for no 
apparent reason, it will rise to three times that height, or sway 
rapidly to one side or the other. Now and then a wave seems to 
pass from end to end of the line owing to one bird advancing 
or rising a little and its companions promptly ' dressing up ' to 
it. The effect of these rapid undulating movements, which are 
carried out with great regularity, is exceedingly beautiful to 
watch, and has been compared to the swift waving motions 
which pass along a pennant in a light breeze. 

Other birds — as, for example, Shags — fly in long curving lines, 
and others again in huge flocks which melt into curious and 
ever-changing shapes as they pass along. This is particularly 
noticeable in the case of flocks of Starlings flying to roost. 

Concerning the speed of a bird in full flight we shall have 
something to say when considering migration. Our real know- 
ledge of the subject is small, the only thoroughly reliable 
records being those in connection with the flight of Homing 
Pigeons. In 1892 one of these birds accomplished a flight of 
a hundred and fourteen miles at the rate of eighty miles an 
hour ; but the usual speed in matches over long distances seems 

237 



FLIGHT 

to be somewhere between thirty-five and seventy miles in the 
hour. 

The practice of using Pigeons as letter-carriers is a very 
ancient one — at least three thousand years old ; and in the days 
before the invention of telegraphy there was no other way in 
which news could be conveyed for long distances with anything 
approaching the same rapidity. Five centuries ago the Turks 
had organised a regular system of Express Pigeons between high 
towers thirty or forty miles apart, where sentinels stood con- 
stantly on the watch for the home-coming birds, ready to 
receive the message and pass it on to the next post by means 
of another Pigeon. The hour of arrival and dispatch was 
written down at every tower, and for greater security a dupli- 
cate message was always sent two hours after the first. The 
slip of paper on which the message was written was often en- 
closed in a tiny gold box, and was slung from the bird's neck. 

Pigeons are still used as messengers, especially for military 
purposes, and in the Italian army the Pigeon service is particu- 
larly well organised. The modern way of sending the dispatch 
is to insert the thin paper, closely rolled, in a quill, which is 
stitched to one of the tail-feathers — a plan which is much safer 
than the old method, and less irksome to the bird. 

The letter-quill attached to a tail-feather reminds us of a 
curious Eastern custom with regard to Pigeons. The Chinese 
make little whistles, something like miniature organ-pipes, 
from gourds, and fasten them to the tail-feathers of their 
Pigeons. The whistles are attuned to different notes, and a 
flock of Pigeons all provided with these musical instruments are 
said to produce a very pretty effect, like the sound of ^Eolian 
harps, as they wheel through the air. The experiment was 
tried in England by Lady Dorothy Nevill, who writes in her 
Reminiscences that " people used to be considerably astonished 
at such heavenly music, and their bewilderment and puzzled 
faces afforded me great amusement. No one but myself, I 
believe, has ever organised such a winged orchestra, but should 

238 




Stereo Copyright, Undenvood &■ V. Londo7i and Neiv York 

Homing Pigeons used by Soldiers 

Pigeons form a regular part of the Italian army, each bird being registered, 
like a soldier. They are used for bearing despatches, the message being written- 
on a narrow slip of thin paper (see lower part of the above illustration), which is 
then rolled up tightly and placed in a quill attached to one of the tail feathers. 
On active service the birds are carried by cavalrymen in wicker knapsacks until 
required. 



FLIGHT 

any one care to make the experiment, I can assure them they 
will be well rewarded for their trouble." 

Besides what we may call ordinary flight — that is to say, 
flight which is carried on with regular beats of the wings — 
there are other methods known as 'gliding,' 'soaring,' and 
' hovering. "* 

Gliding may often be compared to free-wheeling on a bicycle, 
and is frequently practised by birds of many different kinds. 
After getting up speed by means of a few rapid strokes the wings 
are held more or less extended but motionless, and the bird is 
can-ied onwards through the air for a considerable distance 
without further effort. Gliding is also seen when a Pigeon 
comes down from the top of a building to the ground ; in this 
case the impetus is provided by the force of gravity, and the 
bird glides down with wings raised and extended, as though 
sliding on an invisible toboggan slide, until it comes quite near 
to the ground, when it puts on the brake by throwing itself 
backward a little with outspread tail and giving a few short 
beats with its wings. This method of flight, but in a reversed 
sense, is also seen when a Falcon rises after missing a ' stoop ' 
at its quarry, the impetus gained in its hurtling swoop being 
sufficient to carry the bird upward again, with a slight adjust- 
ment of its wings and body, for a considerable part of the 
distance covered in its descent. 

Soarings on the other hand, is seen when a bird mounts to a 
great height and sails round and round in the sky with its 
wings all the while apparently quite motionless. Crows, Peli- 
cans, Storks, Eagles, and many other birds are adepts in flight 
of this kind, which is perhaps what Solomon had in mind when 
expressing his perplexity concerning the manner of flight of 
the Eagle. It is, indeed, the most difficult of all to under- 
stand, and the only explanation of which we can conceive is 
that it depends upon wind or air currents which bear the bird 
upward like a kite in a breeze. But here we are met with 
the difficulty that many birds can, and do, soar on an 

239 



FLIGHT 

apparently windless day, when hardly a breath of air is to be 
felt on the land, and the clouds hang motionless in the sky. 
So remarkable is this that Gatke, who spent his whole life 
watching birds in Heligoland, was convinced that wind is by 
no means necessary to a soaring bird. Speaking of the soar- 
ing of Honey-Buzzards, he says that the birds do not make 
use of the slightest movement of their wings, or of air currents, 
to reach the requisite elevation, but can soar upwards in a 
calm atmosphere with the wings outspread and perfectly 
motionless. He tells us that he saw them doing this not 
once, but hundreds of times every year, and was always 
puzzled to know how, in an atmosphere so much lighter than 
its own body, a bird could rise like a balloon. 

It is true that there are, as we have already mentioned, air- 
sacs and air-cavities throughout a bird's body, even in its bones 
and quills, and the air which the spaces contain is necessarily 
warmer than the surrounding air, and therefore lighter. Many 
people appear to think that this is enough to explain the whole 
question, but a little careful consideration is sufficient to show 
the complete absurdity of such a notion. Supposing there were 
a difference in temperature between the outside air and the air 
contained in the air-sacs amounting to as much as 20° Fahrenheit, 
it would require, in order to make a bird weighing ten pounds 
light enough to float in the air, something like a thousand 
cubic feet of warm air in the air-sacs ! Such an enormous 
volume of air would produce, to say the least of it, an un- 
wieldy and unusual appearance such as has never yet been 
observed in any bird outside The Arabian Nights, 

Different birds soar in different ways, to different heights, and 
for different purposes. Many, such as the Pelicans, which move 
round in gigantic and noble spirals, habitually soar merely for 
pleasure ; others, like the Vultures, ascend to astonishing heights 
for the purpose of finding food. Condors have been observed 
from a height of sixteen thousand feet on the Andes soaring 
practically five miles above the level of the sea, and it is 

240 



FLIGHT 

possible that even this astonishing height is exceeded. This is 
more remarkable even than it at first appears, and for this reason : 
during the famous balloon ascent made by Mr. James Glaisher, 
starting from Wolverhampton in September, 1862, freezing- 
point was reached at a height of 2 miles ; at 3J miles Mr. 
Coxwell, who accompanied Mr. Glaisher, was panting for 
breath ; and at a little over 5 miles Mr. Glaisher himself sud- 
denly lost the power of moving his arms, and soon afterwards 
became temporarily blind and dumb, though still conscious. 
Now a number of Pigeons were taken up in the balloon, and 
birds which were thrown out at a height of four miles flew vigor- 
ously round and round apparently quite at their ease, although 
Pigeons are not amongst the birds which are in the habit of 
ascending to anything like this altitude. There must, then, be 
something very remarkable in the constitution of a bird, since 
it is able to tolerate conditions which cause much physical 
distress in man. 

Gatke states that Buzzards are frequently accompanied on 
their excursions into the heights by Kestrels, and it is very 
interesting to watch the birds together on account of the 
different manner in which they rise. The Buzzard, as already 
mentioned, ascends directly upward ; the Kestrel, on the other 
hand, careers round and round its companion in circles, or 
rather, since it too is rising, in a spiral or corkscrew course. 
But the Kestrel is not a true soarer in the same sense as a 
Buzzard, for in order to continue its upward course it is 
obliged from time to time to perform a series of rapid wing- 
strokes. 

The Kestrel is a specialist in the last of the four principal 
kinds of flight to which we have to refer, namely, hovering. 
Hovering is the very antithesis of soaring, because while in 
soaring a bird usually keeps its wings motionless, yet moves 
often in a spiral course to a great height, or sails onward, as 
we shall see presently, for immense distances, in hovering the 
wings beat with tremendous rapidity, yet the bird remains 
Q 241 



FLIGHT 

poised all the while over the same spot. This habit has earned 
for the Kestrel its popular name of " Wind-hover." It is seen 
also to great advantage in Humming-birds as they hang motion- 
less under honey-laden flowers and probe them with their long 
bills, their little wings being driven at such an enormous speed 
meanwhile that they are only visible as a faint haze on each 
side of the body. 

A certain Bird-of-Prey, known as the Everglade Kite, has 
a very curious habit when soaring, which appears to be peculiar 
to itself. While in the air its flight is frequently arrested for 
long intervals, the bird remaining in one place absolutely im- 
movable with the exception of its expanded tail, which is 
continually twisted about in a singular manner from side to 
side, or turned up almost at a right angle with the line of the 
body. It seems as though by this means the Kite contrived 
to anchor itself, as it were, in position, and to hover without 
moving its wings. 

Soaring is not necessarily carried on at a great height, and 
many sea-birds soar but a short distance above the surface of 
the water. Nearly all of them are remarkably skilful, and 
Gulls may be seen soaring in all weathers, apparently in almost 
any direction they please. The soaring of sea-birds is often 
seen to great advantage from sailing ships in the midst of the 
ocean, and there are few grander spectacles than the majestic 
flight of such a bird as the Albatross, as he sails without effort 
over the sea. At one moment rising high in the air, then with a 
bold sweep descending until he all but touches the crests of the 
waves, his body and outstretched wings remain in complete 
repose, and only his head and neck move to and fro as, ever- 
watchful and with lively eye, he observes what is going on 
around him. But suddenly he sees something floating on the 
water, and then all his grace is lost, for throwing his head 
back, and straddling out his enormous webbed feet in an 
awkward manner to their full extent, he comes down with a 
great splash and a hoarse cry on the waves. Once afloat, how- 

242 



FLIGHT 

ever, he is himself again, and breasts the waves with grace and 
ease. 

For more than an hour at a time an Albatross may often 
be seen sailing about without any apparent movement of its 
^\^ngs. In this it is not alone, for the Frigate-bird is no less 
wonderful — indeed, some people consider the Frigate-bird an 
even finer flyer than the Albatross. Both these birds may be 
seen following a ship day after day, and it is even said that 
they are able to fly for almost a week continuously in the 
wake of a vessel. 

Petrels also follow vessels for several days in succession 
(especially if offered the inducement of bits of bait, such as 
fish liver, dropped out astern), even when they are travelling 
two hundi'ed miles a day, and are often the only visible com- 
panions of a lonely ship in mid-ocean. 

The flight of Petrels is quite different from that of an 
Albatross ; they are restless creatures, and move around flutter- 
ing, twittering, and pattering on the water with their feet in 
the curious manner from which they have derived their name. 
For these animated little birds seldom actually alight on the 
water, even when picking up food ; their wings support them 
just above the surface, and the movement of their legs gives 
them the appearance of striding along over the sea like Peter 
of old, hence the name ' Petrel.' 

The idea that the birds remain constantly on the wing 
for several days has, however, often been disputed. It does in- 
deed seem incredible that any animal could remain so long 
without rest, and it is just possible that the Petrels both rest 
and sleep on the sea, for where fifty or a hundred birds are seen 
by day there may be only two or three during the night. But 
if they do rest upon the water while the ship is still forging 
ahead on her course, how is it that they are with her again soon 
after daybreak ? The explanation which has been suggested is 
that they soar to a considerable height, just as Vultures do, and 
having found the ship again (or some other ship) easily catch it 

243 



FLIGHT 

up. From the height of only a thousand feet it would be pos- 
sible for a bird to see a ship with masts two hundred feet high 
more than fifty miles away, and even if the ship itself were not 
visible it might catch sight of another bird whose actions showed 
that it had discovered one, and follow in its train. In whatever 
way we regard it, however, and whichever opinion we are in- 
clined to, it cannot be denied that the flight of these hardy ocean- 
going birds is very marvellous. 

Such birds as these are in strange contrast to the Steamer 
Ducks, which when mature are incapable of true flight, their 
wings being too short to support their body in the air. But 
though they cannot raise themselves to any height they flap 
their wings busily as they move along the surface of the waves, 
producing the eff'ect of a fussy paddle-steamboat, and so rapidly 
do their wings beat the water that it is quite difficult to believe 
that they are not really revolving like paddles. 

Among the land-birds none show greater endurance in flight 
than the Swifts, with which we are all familiar. These birds, 
which in the height of the summer rise very early and are the 
latest of all the day-birds in going to roost, remain on the 
wing during most of the time between dawn and twilight, often 
travelling at an almost incredible speed as they dash hither 
and thither, at a greater height than the Swallows, hunting for 
insects or, as it sometimes seems, flying out of sheer enjoyment 
of the exercise, 



244 



CHAPTER XV 
MIGRATION 

The old hibernation myth : its absurdities and possible foundation in fact — 
The gathering of the flocks — Immensity of numbers — Perils of the 
journey — Extent of the breeding-ground— The Tundra, a birds' paradise 
— A banquet of crystallised fruit and mosquitoes— Possible origin of the 
migratory instinct — Punctuality of migrants — " Time gone by, birds 
gone by " — Height at which migrants fly — The beginning and end of 
the journey — Speed of migrating flocks — Importance of speed — East and 
west migration — Finding the way — Partial migrants. 

THAT "one Swallow does not make a summer" is one of 
the very oldest of common proverbial sayings. The 
mysterious going and coming of birds, their sudden 
disappearance from the face of the country and their no less 
sudden return, have excited the wonder of mankind for ages 
past. Their seasonal movements and wanderings had been 
noticed even in Homer^^s time, for he compared the march of 
the Trojans to the noisy flight of a flock of Cranes travelling 
southward: "The Trojans marched with clamour and with 
shouting like unto birds, even as when there goeth up before 
Heaven a clamour of Cranes which flee from the coming of 
winter and sudden rain, and fly with clamour towards the 
streams of ocean." But though the arrival or departure of 
Cuckoo, Swallow, or many another bird was a familiar occur- 
rence, the mystery of it remained a mystery until quite recent 
times, and there are still many features about the wanderings 
of birds which we cannot really explain. 

We know that some birds come in the springtime at the 
season of nesting to make their homes amongst us, and leave 
again for warmer lands before the beginning of winter ; we 

245 



MIGRATION 

know that others come to spend the winter, but do not stay to 
bring up their young ; what we do not know is how they 
manage to find their way from countries far distant to the same 
spot year after year, or even, in some instances, where they 
spend their time during their long absence from our shores. 
It is one of the most marvellous things in the whole of nature 
that the same pair of Wagtails should travel from a place hun- 
dreds of miles away in Southern Europe to build their nest in 
the same wall in which they took up their abode a year before, 
and that, as there is reason to suppose sometimes happens, the 
same Cuckoo should come from its remote winter quarters in 
Africa once more to place its egg in the Wagtail's nest. 

Not very long ago it was commonly believed that in autumn 
Swallows do not leave the country at all, but hide in holes in 
the ground, in hollow trees, or in snug retreats under the roofs 
of buildings, there to sleep away the winter months until the 
spring sunshine and the reappearance of winged insects tempt 
them to venture once more out into the open. Some people 
even maintained that these dainty little birds hide at the 
bottom of ponds or streams and bury themselves in the mud. 
Gilbert White himself, fine old naturalist as he was, could not 
entirely rid himself of this absurd notion, though it is obviously 
impossible that such a hot-blooded, quick-breathing creature as 
a bird could survive for one single hour under such conditions. 

The notion that birds hibernate in holes was, however, more 
plausible, for it is known that other animals are capable of 
doing so. Bats spend a drowsy existence during the cold 
weather in caves, hollow trees, or crevices ; butterflies, house- 
flies, and other insects may often be found in a sleepy, prac- 
tically insensible condition, concealed in some dark corner; 
dormice lie snugly coiled up within their nest to await the 
return of spring ; and the hedgehog does not venture abroad 
during the hard weather. There is an old children's rhyme :— 

The Bat, the Bee, and the Butterfly, 
Tlie Cuckoo and the Swallow, 
The Corncrake and the Nightingale, 
They all sleep in the hollow. 
246 



MIGRATION 

No doubt in the old days if the tiTith of the popular belief had 
been questioned the retort would have been — Why should not 
the Cuckoo and Swallow and Corncrake and Nightingale hiber- 
nate ? At the present tirne it requires a great deal of courage 
to suggest that such a thing is possible in any circumstances 
whatever, and any one who ventures to do so runs considerable 
risk of being at once put down as a very credulous and unintel- 
ligent person. But is it not, after all, just possible that there 
was a small grain of fact in the foundation of this widespread 
fiction ? 

V We of course know now that migration, and not hibernation, 
accounts for the disappearance of birds, but there are often a 
few birds which either are not quite old enough to undertake 
the flight to a distant country, or which loiter over long in 
their summer quarters and, being surprised by a snap of cold 
weather, have their faculties dulled and lose some of the 
exuberant energy which is necessary for such a tremendous 
undertaking as a journey oversea. Is it not just possible that 
from time to time some, though ever so few, of these birds, 
having crept into a snug< corner for shelter, became too listless 
and drowsy to leave it again, and being found in that condition 
were not unnaturally regarded as having deliberately stayed to 
hibernate ? 

I happen to be aware that a bird is capable of surviving a 
very long period of imprisonment without food. Early in 
January last year, at a farm in Lincolnshire, a Buff Orpington 
Hen suddenly disappeared and no trace of her could be found 
for some time. At the end of six weeks exactly, from the date 
when she was first missed, she was found in an outbuilding, 
firmly wedged behind some sacks, in a position which made 
movement impossible. She was very thin, in fact "a mere 
bag of bones," but though she was both weak and drowsy she 
was still alive, and it seemed not unlikely that with care she 
would recover. She was therefore fed on warm bread and 
milk, but at the end of three days she died. There was no 

247 



MIGRATION 

food of any kind, or water, in the place where she was found ; 
not even mice or other vermin which she might have eaten ; 
yet in spite of this, and in spite of her uncomfortable position, 
which no doubt caused her to exhaust her strength in strug- 
gling to escape as long as she was capable of doing so, she had 
survived, and during her imprisonment had even laid two eggs. 
Now if a bird can exist for six whole weeks in such un- 
favourable circumstances and be found still living at the end 
of that time, are the old stories of an occasional living Swallow 
or Swift or Corncrake being discovered in a drowsy condition in 
midwinter, hidden away in some snug retreat, so ridiculous 
after all ? especially when we consider that in these cases the 
birds, not being prisoners, might, if they should be aroused 
from their lethargy by an exceptionally warm day, perhaps 
seek a little food which would renew their strength to a certain 
extent and help them to go on living. To consider that this 
is possible is a very different matter from accepting the old 
fairy-tales which affirmed that the birds crawled down the 
reeds in pairs, bill to bill and foot to foot, to the bottom of a 
lake ; or that they formed a ball by clinging together with 
their feet and so committed themselves to the deep ; or that 
they united in laying hold of a straw and plunged in company ; 
or — most romantic of all — that they assembled on a reed in 
such numbers that at length it broke and sank with them while 
they joined in singing a funeral dirge ! 

The belief last mentioned no doubt arose from the fact that 
in autumn, just before migrating. Swallows forsake their roosts 
about houses or other buildings and assemble every night in 
myriads, to sleep in trees or bushes or among the slender withies 
of an osier-bed. Gilbert White himself observed this, for he 
states that he discerned one morning, on a large common, as the 
mist began to break away, great numbers of Swallows in close 
clusters upon twigs, as if they had roosted there all night ; and 
he saw them actually set out on their southward journey, for 
he says : " As soon as the air became clear and pleasant they 

248 



MIGRATION 

all were on the wing at once ; and, by a placid and easy flight, 
proceeded on southwards towards the sea : after this I did not 
see any more flocks, only now and then a straggler/' 

Nearly all migratory birds travel in flocks, especially in the 
autumn, and often in such immense numbers as baffle descrip- 
tion. These vast companies are nowhere better observed than 
from lighthouses, towards which they are often attracted by 
the bright light ; indeed, lighthouses are a source of much 
peril to migrating birds, many of which dash headlong against 
the glass of the lantern and are stunned or killed. After a big 
migration night birds have often been found lying five or six 
deep all round the lighthouse balcony. In the " Report on the 
Migration of Birds as observed at Irish Lighthouses," it is 
stated that after the night of February 20th, 1890, during 
which the air seemed to be filled with immense swarms of 
Larks, Blackbirds, Thrushes, Starlings, and Curlews, the 
balcony outside Copland Lighthouse was piled deep with killed 
birds, so that it was impossible to set down a foot anywhere 
without walking on them. The glass of the lantern was ob- 
scured to such an extent that eight pails of water were required 
to clean it, and dead birds were given in whole bucketsful to 
passing fishermen. 

Again, in the following description of an autumn night in 
Heligoland — that rocky isle in the midst of the North Sea 
which lies in the course of one of the most frequented of the 
birds' great highways — Herr Gatke brings vividly before us the 
wonders of such a mighty, hurrying throng : — 

" The whole sky is now filled with a babel of hundreds of 
thousands of voices, and as we approach the lighthouse there 
presents itself to the eye a scene which more than confirms the 
experience of the ear. Under the intense glare of the light, 
swarms of Larks, Starlings, and Thrushes career around in 
ever- varying density, like showers of brilliant sparks or huge 
snowflakes driven onwards by a gale, and continuously replaced 
as they disappear by freshly arriving multitudes. Mingled 

249 



MIGRATION 

with these birds are large numbers of Golden Plovers, Lap- 
wings, Curlews, and Sandpipers. Now and again, too, a 
Woodcock is seen ; or an Owl, with slow beatings of the wings, 
emerges from the darkness into the circle of light, but again 
speedily vanishes, accompanied by the plaintive cry of an 
imhappy Thrush that has become its prey. 

" Such a migration stream lasts through a whole long autumn 
night, and, under specially favourable conditions, may ... be 
repeated for several nights in succession. Nor is it by any 
means confined within the narrow limits of what is known as a 
migration route, for that which took place in the night ... in 
which the birds might have been counted by millions, was 
noticed 112 geographical miles farther south. When one 
thinks of numbers of individuals such as these, which cannot 
be grasped by human intelligence, it seems absurd to talk of a 
conceivable diminution in the number of birds being effected 
through the agency of man. In one particular respect man no 
doubt does exert a noticeable influence on the numbers of bird- 
life, not, however, by means of net and gun, but rather by the 
increasing cultivation of the soil, which roots out every bush 
and shrub, great or small, as a useless obstacle, and thus robs 
the bird of even the last natural protection of its nest. 
Having thus driven the poor creatures into distant and less 
densely populated districts, we complain that we no longer hear 
their merry song, unconscious of the fact that we are ourselves 
responsible for the cause." 

To a man who for sixty years or more had witnessed the 
mighty, hurrying stream of birds which passes over the little 
lonely island in the North Sea, it no doubt did seem ridiculous to 
suppose that the yearly slaying of a few hundred thousand of 
them could make any perceptible difference in their numbers ; 
yet in this opinion Herr Gatke was mistaken, for as we point out 
elsewhere, man has succeeded in exterminating by wholesale 
persecution a bird which not long ago existed in such immense 
numbers as the famous Passenger Pigeon of North America. 

250 



MIGRATION 

Large numbers of migi-ating birds no doubt perish owing to 
fatigue, and this is not to be wondered at when we consider the 
multitudes which travel for several hundred miles over sea, and 
remember that they may be met by adverse weather on the 
way. Tired birds often alight on boats or the rigging of ships, 
many of them so much exhausted as to allow themselves to be 
caught in the hand, and some so weak that, unable to stand, 
they fall into the water and are drowned. Gatke tells us that 
the birds arriving on Heligoland never show the least sign of 
fatigue, though he admits that in two or three instances he had 
seen land-birds, such as a Song-Thrush, a Snow-Bunting, and a 
Brambling, obliged to take short rests on the sea. It appears 
that land-birds may be able to rise again, even after they have 
fallen into the water ; but if their plumage once becomes soaked 
their fate is sealed, and great numbers of birds undoubtedly 
perish in this way. In March, 1904, the pupils at Pwllheli 
County School announced one afternoon that hundreds and 
thousands of birds had been cast upon the shore at high tide : 
on inquiry it was found that dead birds were lying all along the 
coast for several miles, amongst them being Starlings, Thrushes, 
Blackbirds, Woodcock, and Snipe. During the small hours of 
the morning many had fallen dead beat upon the deck of a 
vessel entering the harbour, while others in a helpless and dying 
condition fell among and upon the workmen in the granite 
quarries not far away. 

Even the birds which come safely to land often arrive in such an 
exhausted condition that, on alighting upon the beach, they are 
incapable of any further exertion and fall an easy prey to Gulls, 
Rooks, and Carrion-Crows, which kill and devour them. 

The wonder is that some of the smaller and weaker birds ever 
succeed in accomplishing the journey at all. A story which 
used to be told to children was that big birds, such as Storks and 
Crows, carry the little songsters on their backs across the sea ; 
but this was only a pretty fairy-tale. Though many small 
birds associate with strange companions on their journeys, the 

251 



MIGRATION 

tiny Golden-crested Wren, for example, often travelling in the 
company of the sturdy Crow, hundreds of thousands of them 
make the crossing with not a single large bird amongst them. 
During the October migration, some years ago, Golden-crested 
Wrens were seen in some places as thick as snowflakes in the air 
all the night through ; and on dark nights as many as fifteen 
thousand Larks have been caught in Heligoland in three 
hours. 

Whence come all these vast multitudes ? At first it seems 
almost incredible that there should be so many birds in the 
world as are seen from coast stations at migration time. Flocks, 
many miles in width, pass continuously overhead for hours at a 
time, and on dark nights when they fly low the sound of their 
wings and their mingled cries produce an effect which is both 
weird and uncanny. On such occasions the birds are often 
attracted by the glojw^f lights in a town and loiter overhead 
half the night, heard but not seen. Lord Lilford writes 
that in the summer of 1858, on the esplanade of Corfu, he and 
a companion were suddenly startled from the drowsy contem- 
plation of their cigarettes by an uproar as if all the feathered 
inhabitants of the great Acherusian marsh had met in conflict 
over their heads. " It would," he says, " be quite impossible to 
convey anything approaching to a just idea of the babel of 
sounds, many of which neither of us had ever before heard ; 
and I have no conception what birds can have produced the 
greater part of them, but I recognised the wails of the 
Curlew, the cry of more than one species of Tern, and the 
laugh of some Larus'''' — Larus being of course a Gull. All 
migrating birds are more noisy on dark or foggy nights, be- 
cause it is only by continually uttering their call-notes that the 
flock can avoid becoming scattered. 

The immensity of some of the autumn flocks of migrating 
birds is accounted for by the vast extent of the nesting-regions 
from which the hosts are gathered together. Such a region 
was discovered by Mr. Seebohm during his two famous journeys 

252 



MIGRATION 

in quest of the nesting-place of some of our winter visitors — 
the Grey Plover, the Little Stint, Bewick's Swan, the Sander- 
ling, the Knot, and the Curlew Sandpiper, which vanished every 
spring as completely as if they had ceased to exist, yet 
regularly reappeared on our shores in the autumn. To what 
unknown or unvisited land did they repair ? 

On the northern rim of the European and Asiatic continents, 
where furthest Russia and the vast stretches of Siberia extend 
without a break along the shores of the Arctic Ocean, there was a 
tract of thousands of miles of country concerning which practi- 
cally nothing was known — a region which was believed to be 
wholly uninhabited ; a land of treeless swamp, and darkness, and 
desolation. At one point, opposite Nova Zembla, a mighty 
river, the Petchora, flows down from the Ural Mountains into 
the ocean ; and thither Mr. Seebohm determined to go in quest 
of the missing birds. There he found three of them ; the 
others are now known to go still further north. 

Nothing could be more romantic than the story which this 
journey of Mr. Seebohm's revealed. For eight months out of 
the year the belt of inhospitable land — the tundra, as it is 
called — between the northern forests and the frozen ocean, is 
completely buried under a six-feet-thick blanket of snow, and 
not a sign of life is to be seen except here and there the foot- 
prints of a fox or reindeer, or an occasional hardy Raven or Owl 
which has wandered from the forest. For two months in mid- 
winter the sun never rises above the horizon ; night holds un- 
disputed sway, night made visible by the fitful light of moon or 
stars or the faint gleam of the aurora borealis. Then the sun 
begins to peep upon this desolate scene for a few minutes at 
noon ; gradually, day by day, he prolongs his visit, until, in 
early June, continuous night has become continuous day. At 
midday the sun's rays are hot enough to blister the skin, but 
for a time the frozen snow holds out against their influence, and 
they are reflected harmlessly from the great white expanse. 
Then a more subtle adversary comes to join in the struggle — 

253 



MIGRATION 

the warm south wind and, with it, rain. The six-foot ice on 
the mighty Petchora crumples and breaks, the snow melts 
away, and earth is revealed and aroused from its long slumber, 
and it is summer — a two-months-long summer day. With the 
breaking of the ice come the birds, suddenly and in countless 
millions, some of them in so great a hurry that they overshoot 
the mark and are obliged to turn back. Within forty-eight 
hours of the first warmth they have taken possession of the 
land — Snipes, Dotterels, Ducks, Swans, Geese, Gulls, Pipits, 
Birds-of-Prey, and hosts of others. What do they find ? 

A great plain with shallow valleys, and swamps intersected 
by a network of low ridges, like the veins on the rind of a 
melon ; a plain which is " neither heath nor moor, marsh nor 
fen, highlands nor sand-dunes, moss nor morass," but a com- 
bination of all. At midday the blazing sun converts a thou- 
sand pools into sparkling jewels ; at midnight its blood-red 
disc throws a rosy haze on the landscape and casts flaming 
crowns on the low hill-tops. But what food can there be for a 
teeming population of birds after an eight months' winter, when 
the earth is yet hardly freed from its covering of snow ? Strange 
to say, there is food in abundance : nowhere in the world does 
Nature provide such a lavish prodigality of food. Myriads of 
cranberry, cloudberry, and crowberry bushes cover the ground, 
all laden with enormous crops of fruit, ready for eating. 

It seems incredible that there should be such stores of food ; 
but the explanation is simple. Short as is the Arctic summer, 
the perpetual sunshine forces on the vegetation and brings the 
stunted, berry-bearing shrubs to fruition. Hardly has the fruit 
ripened, however, when winter again sets in, and a great mantle 
of snow is spread over all the land, not to melt again for eight 
months. The bushes are buried and frozen with the fruit still 
hanging upon them before the birds have time to gather it ; 
and there it remains, in cold storage, fresh and succulent until 
the south wind and summer sun uncover it for the birds to feast 
upon the moment they arrive from their winter quarters. 

254 



MIGRATION 

Long before this store of crystallised fruits is exhausted the 
bushes have begun to bear again, and the tundra is converted 
into a gigantic garden. " The lakes," Mr. Seebohm says, " are 
diversified with patches of green water-plants, amongst which 
ducks and swans float and dive ; the little rivers flow between 
banks of rush and sedge ; the swamps are masses of tall rushes 
and sedges of various species, where phalaropes and ruffs 
breed, and the bogs are brilliant with the white fluffy seeds of 
the cotton-grass." The ground is a mass of beautiful and 
varied colour, in which lichens and moss of every conceivable 
hue are interspersed with bonnie bright Arctic blossoms — 
monkshood and pinks, yellow pansies and dwarf roses, willow- 
herb, blue-bells, lady's smock, Jacob's ladder, sedum, and grace- 
ful anemones. The air is fragrant with their odours, and the 
land would be a veritable paradise but for one fatal drawback 
-i:mosquUoes ! 

/ Rats in Hamelin Town before the visit of the Pied Piper 
were not so all-pervading as mosquitoes in the tundra. 
Nowhere in the world is insect-life so prolific ; their numbers 
beggar description. As soon as the snow is thawed, the latent 
mosquito life begins to stir. Eggs buried in the frozen mud 
now hatch; in a few days there are mosquitoes, and thence- 
forward generation is heaped on generation until every blade of 
grass and twig, stem of moss or tiny leaf, reed or bush on fen or 
hill seems to produce an inexhaustible supply. No European 
can exist among them without a veil ; they cover the gun- 
barrels and rise in battalions, like a black cloud, to obscure the 
sight. If a man remain standing, the cloud thickens about him ; 
if he run, it trails behind like a smoky veil floating in the wind. 
The sound of their buzzing is like the singing of a tea-kettle. 
In tropical lands they swarm only by night; in the tundra, 
they swarm incessantly for six weeks or more. They are its 
most important inhabitants, for they make the land almost 
intolerable to man, while they enable fish and birds to live. 
The soft-billed insect-eating birds have only to open their 

255 



MIGRATION 

mouths to fill them with mosquitoes ; no wonder then, that they, 
as well as the fruit-eating birds, descend upon the country in 
myi'iads ; for them, at least, the land is a paradise. 

The birds arrive already paired ; they have no time to waste, 
for their summer life is compressed into a few weeks, so they 
begin to build at once and devote themselves wholly to their 
parental duties. When the education of their young is com- 
plete they cast off their worn-out garments and, clothed in new 
feathers, hurry away, some to the south and some towards the 
south-west, where they form a large part of the mighty autumn 
stream which passes over Heligoland and surges round our 
lighthouse stations. 

The breeding-ground is always in the coldest regions of the 
bird's range. Birds which nest in the tropics do not migrate, 
because there is no warmer region for them to migrate from ; and 
this brings us to the question as to what is the origin of the 
instinct for migration. 

The migratory instinct perhaps arose in this way : we suppose 
that ages ago the ancestors of migratory birds lived all the year 
round in the countries to v>^hich their descendants now resort to 
make their nests ; gradually, however, the climate changed ; it 
grew colder, and in winter food became scarce, and the birds 
were compelled to travel southwards. But all birds have 
a fondness for their old home ; so with the spring and the 
return of warmer weather they went back to the familiar breeding- 
place. As the climate and the geological conditions continued 
to change, the distance between the original homeland and the 
summer quarters gradually increased, and the habit of moving to 
and fro with the seasons became more firmly established and 
was handed on from generation to generation, until it became a 
fixed instinct. The joys of family life became associated in the 
bird-mind with the annual journey to the northern home as 
surely as in the minds of some children the joys of summer holi- 
days are inseparable from a journey to the sea. 

We know that the migration of birds is instinctive, and that 
256 



MIGRATION 

it is not merely a habit learnt by the young from their parents, 
because the young of the year usually start several weeks in 
advance of the old birds ; and as they often leave while the 
weather is still warm and food plentiful, they are not urged to 
undertake their first great flight by hunger. 

Few birds undertake the journey alone — unaccompanied, that 
is to say, by others of their own kind. The Cuckoo often does, 
and the Woodcock and the Nightjar ; but as a rule birds unite 
into parties before starting on their pilgrimage. The depar- 
ture is often delayed by bad weather, and while one party is 
waiting until the conditions are good for crossing, other parties 
of different species arrive at the starting-place, with the result 
that the company becomes strangely mixed. 

So strong is the impulse to be moving towards the nesting- 
place, however, that the weather produces far less effect on 
migration than might be expected. Swallows and Nightingales 
are sometimes delayed, but most birds are very regular in their 
goings and comings, and the punctuality of some species is so 
w^onderful that it almost appears as if they arranged their 
movements with an eye to the calendar. " Time gone by, 
birds gone by ''^ is a saying amongst Heligoland gunners, who 
have learnt from long experience that if certain birds are not 
seen at the proper time it is because they have passed by un- 
noticed, and that they will not be seen later however favourable 
the conditions may be. The observation is a very ancient 
one, for in the book of the Prophet Jeremiah we read that 
" the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times ; and 
the turtle and the crane and the swallow observe the time of 
their coming." The Persians and the Arabs even went so far 
as to compile portions of their calendars from the times of 
arrival and departure of migratory birds. 

All sea-fowl may be relied on to make their appearance about 
the same date year by year, and Puffins repair to their summer 
quarters with astonishing punctuality, whatever the weather 
may be. Swifts are almost equally regular in their departure 

R 257 



MIGRATION 

from England in the earliest days of August, leaving earlier 
and arriving later than either Swallows or Martins. 

The autumn movement is, however, less regular than that of 
the spring, and is hastened by the approach of stormy weather. 
It has been noticed that when the barometer is falling, the 
rush of birds increases ; indeed, to some extent it is possible to 
foretell the weather by watching the birds. This is especially 
the case in districts where food is still fairly abundant, for 
in ordinary circumstances many birds proceed through such 
a country in a leisurely manner, loitering wherever bushes and 
thickets hold out the promise of a much-needed meal. But 
when the birds feel a something in the air which foretells the 
coming of wind and storm, they seem to realise instinctively 
that it is no time for dallying, and hold sturdily to their 
course without pausing in their weary flight. 

Most birds fly at a great height when migrating, especially in 
clear weather and on bright, moonlight nights. Rooks, 
Chaffinches, and Sparrow-Hawks ascend to such an altitude that 
they look like dust in the sky and can only be recognised by 
their cries. Cranes, whose dark plumage shows up well against 
a clear sky, rise to a height which can hardly be less than three 
miles, for they fly almost beyond the range of vision, although 
their outspread wings measure seven or eight feet from tip to 
tip ; and in Morocco, in the springtime, I have heard the clatter 
of Storks passing so far overhead that not a bird was visible. 

Crows, Starlings, and Larks, on the other hand, usually fly 
but a few hundred feet above the sea. 

On their departure. Cranes, Sparrow-Hawks, and Kestrels rise 
in a mighty spiral, while Buzzards mount straight up. Swifts 
and Swallows practise soaring and flying in flocks a few days 
before setting out. The departure of birds is less often 
witnessed than their arrival, but Thrushes, Robins, Hedge- 
Sparrows, Goldcrests, and others have often been observed when 
leaving Heligoland. Soon after sunset a single bird rises from 
the flock and calls loudly to its companions, who arouse thera- 

258 




A "MisK o' Ducks" Crossing the Moon 

A scene on the Norfolk coast. When flying in flocks, Wild Ducks arrange themselve: 
in the form of a > or ^ , with the leader at the apex. 



MIGRATION 

selves and fly almost perpendicularly, with upturned breast and 
powerful strokes of the wings, occasionally moving in a circle, 
and all joining in a chorus of call-notes. As soon as fresh 
arrivals cease to join the flock the voices are silenced, and the 
whole company darts away. 

The way in which the birds descend from the sky is more 
striking. Many species precipitate themselves with a rushing 
sound like that of a sky-rocket, and at almost incredible speed. 
The sound is heard before the birds are visible : on looking up- 
wards a black dot is seen ; almost at the same moment it shoots 
past in the form of a bird, and you look to see it dashed to 
pieces on the ground, instead of which you find it sitting quietly 
as though it had never been on the move. Occasionally there 
are accidents ; a Fieldfare was once found at the Heligoland 
lighthouse impaled on the lightning-conductor, on which it had 
descended with such force in the darkness that the rod had 
passed through breast and back and the bird was completely 
skewered. 

.There is some difference of opinion concerning the speed 
at which the flocks travel, but there is no doubt that it is very 
great. During the migration of Hooded Crows one spring the 
first flocks arrived at Heligoland at eight o'clock in the 
morning and on the east coast of England, three hundred and 
twenty miles distant, three hours later, so that they appeared 
to have travelled more than a hundred miles an hour ; yet 
Hooded Crows are comparatively sluggish fliers. We cannot of 
course be quite sure that the flocks arriving in Heligoland and 
those which reached England a little later were either the same 
birds or birds which had set out at the same time. 

We can, however, observe the actual time which a flock of 
birds take to fly a short distance between two known points and 
so estimate their speed pretty accurately. By doing this, Herr 
Gatke found that Plovers, Curlews, and Godwits travelled 
22,000 feet, or over four miles, in a minute ! Even if we make 
allowance for a considerable amount of error in observation, it 

259 



MIGRATION 

is evident that the speed must be very great. In the days 
when Passenger Pigeons still frequented the United States in 
great numbers, the crops of some of these birds shot in the 
neighbourhood of New York were found to be full of rice 
which they could not have obtained nearer than the rice-fields 
of Carolina and Georgia, from 350 to 700 miles away; and 
unless the birds' digestion during flight is much slower than at 
other times their average speed must have been about a mile a 
minute. Such a velocity is only possible in the rarefied upper 
atmosphere in which the birds travel. By ascending to a great 
height they not only rise above the region of great storms, but 
are able to attain a higher speed. 

The importance of speed is obvious when we consider the 
immense distance which lies between the summer and winter 
quarters of many birds and the wide expanse of sea which 
some of them cross in their course. A thousand miles or so is 
a very modest journey for a migrant, the greatest range of 
these little travellers being about ten times that distance. 
Richard's Pipit, a bird which occasionally visits England, nests 
in the far-off country to the east of Lake Baikal and spends 
the winter in the south of France and on the Atlantic coast of 
Spain, travelling from one end of the Old World to the other. 
A glance at the map will show that these birds, though they 
travel thousands of miles, are not much further south at the 
end of their journey than when they set out. From this we 
learn that there is an east and west migration, as well as that 
from north to south, and if, instead of referring to an ordinary 
map, you will look at a climate chart, you will at once see the 
reason. Climate does not depend merely on latitude, and a 
bird which cannot face the hard winter of Siberia can find 
a more genial clime either by flying to Western Europe or by 
moving south. 

The homeward journey — that is to say, the journey to the 
nesting-place — is not always made over the same route as that 
followed in the autumn. When going into winter quarters, 
there seems to be no special reason why the birds should be in a 

260 



MIGRATION 

great hurry — except, of course, when crossing the sea — so long 
as they keep ahead of the advancing region of famine. But in 
spring they have more urgent business to think about ; the nest- 
ing instinct is aroused, and they hurry forward as fast as they 
can by the shortest way. Birds which in autumn make a little 
tour, calling at Heligoland and England, and then wandering 
on through France and Spain to North Africa, in spring take 
the direct route back to their Siberian home. 

Now these birds have to find their way between two places 
which are thousands of miles apart, over two entirely different 
regions, and how they manage it nobody knows, though all 
kinds of explanations have been suggested. It was formerly 
supposed that the old birds act as guides ; but in most cases 
the young birds are the first to leave, and very often they start 
several weeks before their parents. Perhaps there are nearly 
always a few old birds in the flock ; or perhaps the young ones 
loiter by the way and are overtaken by their experienced elders. 

Sometimes they travel in company from the first ; Swallows at 
all events do so, and old Bernacle Geese have been seen pilot- 
ing parties of young on leaving the Hebrides. But even if we 
admit that there may be several old birds in most parties — and 
we do not know that there are — this explanation is of very 
little use to us if the young of even one kind of bird travel 
alone. Now we are quite sure that there is one species of which 
the old birds do not act as guides, and that is the Cuckoo. 
Other birds stay to look after their offspring, but Cuckoos are 
not detained by family cares, because they make arrangements 
to board out their young, and their sense of responsibility is 
satisfied when they have distributed their eggs in the nests of 
other birds. Long before the young are able to set out on a 
journey the parents go away and leave them to find the way as 
best they can. Here, then, we meet with the same difficulty 
again : how do they find the way ? 

It does not help us much if we say that they are guided by 
instinct, because we shall still want to know how. It has 
often been stated that savages — Bushmen and American 

261 



MIGRATION 

Indians, for example — have a ' sense of direction "* which 
enables them to find their way even in a district which is 
strange to them, and they have been known to perform wonder- 
ful feats in getting from place to place. 

A man who spends most of his life in the open does not 
get lost as easily as a town dweller, because his senses of 
hearing and sight are quicker, and in the savage whose 
ancestors have never lived in cities they are still more acute. 
Some people think, therefore, that a savage has a sense of 
direction only because he is more alert to read nature's sign- 
posts, and is so much accustomed to guiding himself by little 
signs that are unknown or invisible to civilised men that he 
can follow their directions as unconsciously as you or I might 
keep to some long -familiar road. Even if that be so, what 
shall we say of quite young children whose experience must be 
slight compared with that of their elders, but who yet are able 
to find their way about in an unknown country with a certainty 
quite beyond our understanding ? Mr. Schillings tells us of 
a Masai child, barely six years old, who was lost from his 
camp in African wilds, and who made his way home safely to 
his parents'" kraal two long days' journey through a pathless 
jungle, in which he slept by night. 

In some animals the faculty is still more wonderful. What 
is it that guides a dog which, after a railway journey of many 
miles in a closed van, walks home again, though he has not 
been able to see where he was being taken, and has therefore 
no landmarks to guide him ? Here, at least, we seem forced 
to believe that there is some inborn faculty which we do not 
possess and cannot explain. 

Homing Pigeons are often quoted as an example of birds 
which are known to have a sense of direction, because they 
too are frequently whirled away in the train to some distant 
place from which, on being set free, they return safely to their 
cote. But Homing Pigeons are specialists; they are trained 
stage by stage for longer and longer flights ; or in other words, 
they learn their way by experience. When thrown up they 

262 



MIGRATION 

ascend to a considerable height, from which they obtain a 
bird's-eye view of an immense stretch of country, and take 
their bearings before starting away towards home. But what 
experience has a young Cuckoo, born in an English park, of 
the way to Africa? Or, more wonderful still perhaps, what 
knowledge has a Cuckoo, born in New Zealand, of the way 
across the thousand miles of trackless ocean which lie between 
its native country and the Australian continent where it makes 
its winter quarters ? Sight no doubt helps birds to direct their 
flight from point to point, but it cannot help them much in 
mid-ocean. It is true that many birds seem to lose their way on 
dark nights, but perhaps that is only because they are con- 
fused by the glare of a city or lighthouse when nothing else 
is visible. In the end we must confess that, much as we have 
learnt concerning bird-travellers, we have not yet discovered 
the secret of that mystery of mysteries, the instinct or know- 
ledge which guides them to their journey's end. 

Flight is such a conspicuous feature of bird-migration that 
one is apt to overlook the fact that there are migrants even 
amongst the flightless birds. During the voyage of the Scotia to 
the Antarctic in 1904 a large party of Gentoo Penguins was ob- 
served landing on the South Orkney Islands, where they go to 
nest. Dr. Harvey Pirie says it was a fine sight to see them 
marching up from the open water on the north of the island 
like a regiment of soldiers, and when they came to an ice slope, 
tobogganing down on their breasts. Many of them stopped to 
scrutinise their unaccustomed visitors, but " with a stare and a 
shake of their stupid old heads they soon passed on." 

When the Discovery was in the Antarctic a year or two 
earlier, the members of the expedition were greatly puzzled, 
on returning to the Emperor Penguin's nursery after a short 
absence, to know what had become of not only the old birds, but 
the downy chicks which had been there a fortnight before, 
and not one of which was now visible. How they could have 
got away remained a mystery until the following year, when Dr. 
Wilson was so fortunate as to observe the means by which 

263 



MIGRATION 

they leave their birthplace to migrate northwards. Day after 
day parties of birds with their young started out from the 
penguinery and stood in groups near the edge of the ice-sheet, 
where they waited patiently until the piece of ice on which they 
were stationed broke away and floated slowly over the ocean. 
In this manner batch after batch of emigrants sailed from their 
native shore and no doubt made a voyage of many hundreds of 
miles, at the end of which the chicks would have had time to 
grow their adult plumage and would be in a position to look 
after themselves. 

Migration does not always involve great journeys such as we 
have described, nor is it in all cases complete, as with Swallows 
and Cuckoos. There are partial migrants, like the Crows, 
Robins, Larks, and Thrushes, which travel to and fro, but some 
of which are always with us, though not necessarily the same 
individuals. The number of Robins in a particular locality may 
be much the same all the year round, fresh arrivals from the 
north taking the place of those which cross the Channel to win- 
ter in France. A few birds, especially among those which haunt 
the neighbourhood of houses where they can rely on a regular 
supply of food in hard times, lose the wander -spirit almost 
entirely. Most people can recall a half-tame Robin which 
seemed to have attached itself definitely to the domestic establish- 
ment, visiting the garden or courtyard for its daily rations 
through the winter months and migrating, if at all, no further 
than to the neighbouring shrubbery to build its nest. 

Other birds, less favoured, must travel or starve, though they 
can find — if they are sufficiently alert — enough to eat in some 
part of the country all the year round. Thus the Kingfisher must 
leave his summer fishing in a stream or pond and hurry away at 
the first sign of frost to the great estuaries or seashore ; and if 
he delay overlong he is quite likely to die of hunger before he 
gets there. Between stay-at-homes or modest travellers such as 
these and the rangers over broad ocean and continent there are 
wanderers of all degrees. 



CHAPTER XVI 
BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

The social instinct—*' Birds of a feather "—True societies and unsociable 
flocks — Why large Birds -of- Prey are unsociable — Rooks at work and 
play— Sentinels— Why Rooks form rookeries — Rookeries and penguin- 
eries— Rook pioneers — Altruism among birds — Rescue parties — Birds-of- 
Prey mobbed by small birds— An Owl as a decoy — A bird philanthro- 
pist — Winter flocks — Nesting colonies of Weaver-birds — The Sociable 
Grosbeak— Himdreds of nests under a single roof— Nests which are 
shared by several pairs of birds. 

WHEN a boy I was much perplexed to know why some 
birds were nearly always seen in flocks, while others 
preferred to wander about in solitude or perhaps 
with only one companion. Why did I nearly always see Rooks 
associating in a large company, but Crows usually solitary or in 
couples ? Why were the winter hedgerows made lively by flocks 
of Linnets which suddenly took flight with one accord and hurried 
away with their curious dipping movement to some distant bush, 
while other birds, such as the Robin, seemed to be invariably 
alone ? The question certainly was a puzzling one, and it must 
be confessed that no quite simple answer can be given to it. 

The reasons for birds' social habits are many and varied, 
and cannot always be discovered. There is no doubt that 
love for the society of their fellows is an instinct with which 
many species are endowed, or which becomes developed — un- 
folds itself, we might say — in the very earliest days of their 
life, and it is not always easy to ascertain the meaning of an 
instinct or the manner in which it arose. Let us take a very 
simple example of this. You must often have noticed that 
your dog or your friend's dog before lying down curves his 

265 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

body and turns round once or twice. Now if we were ac- 
quainted only with domesticated dogs we could not possibly 
know why he does this ; there seems to be no reason for it. 
It is safe to assume, however, that no habit is really meaning- 
less. If it has no real value at the present time you may be 
quite sure that at some former time, and in some other circum- 
stances, it served a good purpose and was of use to the animal. 
Darwin pointed out what is the real explanation of this round- 
about movement of a dog before lying down : in their wild 
state dogs often make their bed in the midst of long grass and, 
in order that they may lie quite comfortably, turn round and 
round so as to press down the grass in the form of a cosy 
hollow. Had we been acquainted only with domestic dogs, 
which are under no necessity to do this, we could never have 
been quite sure what was the meaning of a habit which has so 
long survived its original purpose. 

Now we are well aware that birds are wanderers, and in many 
cases we know very little about what they do during a great 
part of the year, or what are the conditions in which they live. 
The conditions, too, often change as years go by, while an 
instinct once developed, or the habit of a species once formed, 
changes very slowly, just as in the case of the dog mentioned 
above. It is not to be expected, therefore, that we should be 
able, while our knowledge is so incomplete, to explain all the 
social habits of birds, but the meaning of some of them is 
quite clear, and without troubling ourselves too much with 
the scientific side of the question we will try to show, or to 
suggest, why birds behave as they do in society. If we were 
going to be really scientific we should have to distinguish 
clearly between what is true instinct with its manifestations 
and what is habit — what a bird begins to do quite uncon- 
sciously and the actions which it first learns to carry out con- 
sciously but afterwards comes to perform automatically ; that, 
however, would make the question too difficult to be dealt with 
in a book which does not pretend to be scientific. 

266 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

That love for the society of their fellows is really instinctive 
in birds, you may see for yourselves if you carefully observe 
the poultry in a farmyard. Sometimes eggs of Hens and 
Ducks or Turkeys and Geese are hatched together under the 
same mother, but very soon after the chicks begin to run about 
they display their natural instinct of sociability, and before 
they are many days old the " birds of a feather flock together,'' 
chicks with chicks and ducklings with ducklings ; which is no 
doubt very puzzling to the old bird who is mothering them all. 
The social instinct is much stronger among web-footed birds, 
like Ducks, than amongst Game-birds, of which domestic Fowls 
are representatives, and it is much stronger amongst some of 
the web-footed birds than others, resulting in societies large or 
small, a little covey of Ducks or an immense colony of Petrels 
or Gannets. 

The size of the society, however, is not by any means always 
proportionate to the spirit of true sociability which exists 
amongst the birds ; you may have quite a large flock without 
as much affection amongst them as exists between two birds 
which are content to pass their lives together without any 
further companionship : indeed, there may be very little more 
fellow-feeling between the members of a flock than there is 
between the herrings in a shoal, and that is practically none ; 
so it would be possible to distinguish between mere collections 
of individuals and true societies. Amongst ourselves there are 
people who cannot endure to be alone, but who are by no 
means sociable, and so it is amongst the birds ; some of them 
like to be surrounded by their own kind, though they have no 
kindly feeling towards them. Perhaps it is that they want to 
be amused — that they would feel dull if they were left 
alone ; as a rule, however, amongst birds we can discover that 
there is some benefit, some clear advantage, which they gain by 
living in society ; or, if they are solitary, by living in solitude. 
Let us illustrate this by a few examples. 

The larger Birds-of-Prey will seldom tolerate the presence of 
267 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

neighbours of their own kind, or even that of their own offspring, 
for they drive the young birds away from their haunts as soon 
as they are able to shift for themselves. Now the Birds-of- 
Prey live by hunting, and if there were many of them in the 
same neighbourhood there would not be enough game to go 
round ; it is therefore absolutely necessary for their well-being 
that they should not be troubled with competitors if they are 
to obtain sufficient food to supply their own needs. In con- 
trast to these birds there is our friend the Rook, whose food 
usually consists of the worm in the ploughland or the wire- 
worm in the pasture (when he is not stealing the farmer''s 
grain from the stack or the sown field) ; whatever he may 
fancy at the moment is to be found in sufficient quantity to 
satisfy almost any number that ma}^ settle down to the banquet. 
The birds would therefore have nothing to gain by living apart 
or in pairs ; there is no reason whatever why they should not 
join together in large flocks, and they gain distinct advantages 
by doing so.. Rooks form what is perhaps the very highest type 
of bird society, and they belong to the most intellectual of 
families, that of the Crow. None of our common native birds 
are more interesting and entertaining than they, as all who 
have observed them will agree. 

Let us, in imagination, watch a party of Rooks at their day''s 
work. First of all in the grey dawn they start a cheerful con- 
versation of caws, and appear to be holding council together 
before setting out for their feeding-grounds. As soon as this con- 
sultation — or perhaps it is merely a morning greeting — is over, 
one or two grave-looking birds mount into the air, hover there for a 
moment, and then start on their flight towards the place where 
breakfast is to be found. The choice of place appears to rest 
with the leaders, who are no doubt often influenced by the 
weather conditions. It has been observed, for example, in 
certain parts of Anglesea, that the Rooks which in fine weather 
usually fly across the straits to feed upon the jetsam and little 
marine animals, such as mussels, on- the Carnavonshire shore, do 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

not undertake the crossing if there is prospect of stormy 
weather, but turn inland to other hunting-grounds on the 
island. Sometimes the birds fly an immense distance — it may 
be ten miles or more — before settling down to feed, thus show- 
ing their wisdom in not exhausting the food supply of the 
immediate neighbourhood. As they pass onward one or two of 
the old birds alight, let us say in a ploughed field ; immediately 
the other members of the flock follow suit, and soon all are 
busily occupied in picking up their breakfast. Not quite all of 
them, however. Let a man carrying a gun approach the field ; 
he will not get within range before an old sedate-looking bird, 
posted on some point of vantage, utters a warning caw, and 
immediately all the hungry birds raise their heads to ascertain 
the reason. If the gunner pass by they quietly resume their 
feeding, but if he continue to approach, with a great flapping 
of wings and loud protesting caws the whole flock will take to 
flight and hurry away until they are well out of danger. Now 
this is one of the most remarkable developments of the social 
habits of birds — a wise division of duties which leads one or two 
members of a flock to post themselves as sentinels and keep 
guard over their fellows while the latter feed in security. 
From time to time the sentinels are changed and the birds 
which have been on guard take their turn at feeding. If you 
consider for a moment what it must mean to the hungry birds 
who are content to watch their companions enjoying all sorts of 
dainties while they remain on duty for the common welfare, 
you will realise what a marvellous degree of social instinct it 
represents. We shall learn a little further on that many birds 
of difl'erent species adopt the same practice. 

In the evening, when the sun is sinking low and the trees 
stand out in dark silhouette against the sky, the Rooks begin to 
come home ; first in small bands, from which a solitary bird 
detaches itself from time to time and turns back as if to make 
sure that the others are following; then in mighty rushing 
flocks, whose confused cawings are often mingled with the 

269 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

sharper note of the Jackdaws which so frequently live in 
company with the Rooks ; until at last the whole colony has 
gathered together and is wheeling round and round amidst a 
deafening babel of sound. At last they begin to settle down 
upon the trees, perching one by one or in small parties upon the 
topmost branches. Each bird is anxious to secui-e an advan- 
tageous position, and in their excitement the whole multitude 
rise again and again and take short flights, all the while utter- 
ing their hoarse caws. At last the tumult shows signs of 
subsiding and the birds may be seen standing out sharply 
against the sky on every available bough, looking about them or 
preening their glossy plumage. But the lull is only a temporary 
one ; before they have finished their toilet some of the more 
boisterous spirits push their companions off their perches and 
compel them to seek refuge elsewhere, and it is long before, 
finally, all is silent. 

Very often when the young are able to fly, all the birds in the 
rookery, young and old alike, join together in social flights 
above the nesting-trees, for mere amusement. They wheel round 
and round, buffeting each other in the air and engaging in 
various boisterous and high-spirited antics. The importance of 
play — and these flights are a form of play — ^has already been 
explained in another chapter. Frequently they indulge in the 
game known to country people as ' shooting "* — that is to say, 
dropping at a great speed in a zigzag direction with their 
wings slightly raised above the back — and the countryside 
affords few grander sights than that of a flock of Rooks 
indulging in this sport. 

Rooks exercise a very careful supervision over the growth of 
their colony, and often protest vigorously against any innova- 
tions of which they do not approve ; they appear particularly 
to object to any extension of the bounds, and are not at all in- 
clined to encourage the ideas of enterprising birds which seem 
disposed to open up a new suburb, so to speak, by building in 
a tree which is not already included in the rookery. 

270 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

To understand why this is so we are driven to inquire what 
are the advantages of a colony ; why, in short, do Rooks form 
rookeries at all ? There can be little doubt that the chief 
benefit which they derive from their close association is mutual 
protection from possible enemies. Few Birds - of - Prey will 
venture to approach a large company of birds which form a 
true society : the case is different when the social instinct is 
w^eak although the colony is large. We describe elsewhere, for 
instance, how Penguins which form larger colonies, perhaps, 
than any birds still existent, have living in their very midst 
the pirate Skuas, which can carry on their depredations without 
the slightest fear of combined attack from the birds which 
they victimise ; for this reason the Penguin term rookery^ 
which is commonly applied to colonies of these birds, seems to 
me to be a particularly unhappy one ; it would be much better 
always to speak of them as ' penguineries.' No Bird - of - Prey 
would ever dare to enter a rookery, for he would undoubtedly 
be severely punished for his intrusion. It has been suggested 
that the great enemy against whom Rooks have to guard is 
their wily and outlawed relatives the Carrion- Crow, who 
is always ready to take advantage of an opportunity to make a 
luxurious meal of the eggs or young of other birds ; and that 
is very probably true. One can imagine a rookery as being 
always more or less in a state of siege, and in order to guard 
most effectively against incursions of the besieging Carrion- 
Crow the safest plan consists in concentration. It would give 
the birds far more trouble if they had to look after outlying 
nests. The Rooks evidently think so, and if a new nest has been 
started of which — after much cawing, as if in council — they do 
not approve, they fall upon it and pull it to pieces. 

There are many instances of this proceeding, and I am 
indebted to my friend Mr. Pattison Muir for one which he 
observed in the rookery in front of his own house at Cambridge. 
Early one spring a pair of Rooks left the rookery and crossed 
the road to start a colony of their own. Their nest was not 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

very far advanced before ten or twenty of the more conservative 
Rooks made a raid upon it and with very little fuss pulled it 
to pieces, using the sticks for their o\\ti nests. The enterprising 
couple, however, were not discouraged, for after an hour or two 
they began building again ; but once more the other Rooks 
destroyed their work, this time after considerable progress had 
been made with it. In ten days as many nests were built and 
destroyed. But the birds from the old rookery had to deal with 
a most determined young couple, and still more nests were built. 
By the time the twelfth had been put together the attacking 
party appeared to be growing weary of their efforts, and they 
pulled it to pieces very slowly, although the owners were 
absent at the time. 

The following day, as usual, another nest was built, and it 
seems to have been carefully guarded, for two days afterwards 
not only was it still intact, but it apparently contained eggs ; 
at all events the hen-bird was sitting on the nest all day. 
Occasionally a few visitors went over from the old colony, but 
they did not meet with a friendly reception ; which, I think, 
was hardly to be wondered at in the circumstances. Whenever 
they approached, an angry bird appeared from the nest and 
pecked them, with the result that they at once retired. For a 
fortnight the new home was successfully defended, but one day 
at the end of that time, while the owners were absent, the other 
birds again began removing sticks from the nest, and within 
forty-eight hours not a twig of it remained. It seemed as 
though the persecuted pair had at length become discouraged 
by the continued disapproval of the society to which they 
belonged, and had towards the last carried on their defence with 
less energy and conviction. At all events the opposition proved 
too strong for them, and in that year the attempt to found a new 
colony was unsuccessful. As in the case of many human 
innovations, however, the efforts of the pioneers bore fruit later 
on, for in the following season several nests were built in the 
tree which had hitherto been tabooed, and were occupied 

272 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

without signs of protest from the members of the original 
colony. Year by year they increased in number, and at the 
present time the new colony is almost as large as the parent 
rookery from which it sprang. 

As soon as the Rooks have finished building their nest the 
male bird brings little offerings of food to his wife, who receives 
them with fluttering wings and subdued sounds quite different 
from the ordinary caw. This gallantry is continued throughout 
the whole time of incubation. 

A feeling of kindness and courtesy towards their fellows is 
often exhibited by these birds, and there are many stories of 
them helping comrades in distress. Sometimes in winter, when 
food is very scarce and less robust birds suffer severely from 
hunger, their hardier companions, on discovering an appetising 
morsel, will carry it to those who are less able to hunt for 
themselves. There are many stories of such incidents, and 
several other species of birds are in no wise inferior to Rooks 
in this sort of gentle behaviour. Occasionally it is a comrade 
who has become blind through accident or old age who is 
cared for. 

Some years ago on an old farm in Wisconsin attention was 
attracted by the notes of a Blue Jay {Cyanocitta cristata), 
different from the ordinary cry which is so frequently heard 
where Jays are numerous, resembling rather a series of regular 
calls, which appeared to be answered from a tree not far away. 
Curious to know what was the meaning of these cries, the 
observer went to the spot whence they proceeded, and there 
found an old Blue Jay perched on the top of a fence, and 
several other birds of the same species in the neighbouring tree. 
As he drew nearer the cries became shrill as if in warning. The 
bird on the fence proved to be at least partially blind, for his 
eyes were dim and the lids were nearly closed ; in fact he was 
evidently a very old bird, with faded feathers, dull bill, worn 
claws, and a generally ragged and unkempt appearance. He 
was easily caught, and at least a dozen of his fellows showed a 
s 273 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

sympathetic interest in what was going on. On being liberated 
again he flew towards the place where the other birds were 
calling and managed with some difficulty to find a resting-place 
on a large branch. He remained in the neighbourhood for a 
whole week, accompanied by several companions, whose loud 
cries always warned him of approaching danger and served to 
guide him daily to a spring where the whole party went to 
bathe. During this time he was constantly fed by his com- 
rades, who cared for him as they would have cared for their 
own nestlings earlier in the year. 

Birds which have been captured and caged have in many 
instances been known to receive kindly attentions either from 
fellow-captives or from other birds still at liberty. For example, 
two Blackbirds were at one time caged at a lodge in Richmond 
Park, one of them a bird which had been caught quite young 
and had become reconciled to confinement, the other an older 
bird which had been taken much later in life. The latter, being 
unaccustomed to captivity, became mopish, refused to eat, and 
probably would have died had not its younger companion 
taken pity on its miserable condition and brought it food in its 
bill, a friendly office which was performed assiduously for some 
time. 

More curious still is the case of a young Cuckoo which had 
been born in a Wagtail's nest in a garden wall, from which it 
was removed and transferred to a cage on the top of the wall. 
Usually the birds which are victims of the Cuckoo's habit of 
foisting its eggs upon others treat with extraordinary affection 
the unlovable youngsters which emerge from them, and which 
heartlessly heave all their foster brothers and sisters out of the 
nest. In this instance, however, the Wagtails took no further 
notice of their unbidden guest ; perhaps they realised that he 
was an alien, and were not sorry to have him removed. How- 
ever that may be, the little Cuckoo was not wholly deserted, in 
spite of their neglect, for a Hedge-Sparrow took pity on him 
and brought food to his cage every day until, being fully 

274 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

fledged, he was set at liberty. One could without difficulty 
quote scores of similar examples. 

Quite the most extraordinary instance of altruism among 
birds with which I am acquainted is that related of Terns by 
Thomas Edward, the famous Scotch naturalist. Being out one 
day with his gun, Edward shot a Tern which was fishing, bring- 
ing it down with a broken wing. The report of the gun and 
the screams of the wounded bird attracted the attention of the 
feathered fishing-party to which the unfortunate one belonged, 
and soon a great number of them were circling over him as he 
lay upon the waters drifting shorewards with the flowing tide, 
and were expressing their indignation by flying in a body to- 
wards the gunner and uttering loud screams, quite regardless of 
their own individual safety. The w^ounded bird drifted in to- 
wards the spot where Edward stood waiting for it on the beach, 
and was already near enough for him to see that it was a fine 
full-grown specimen when, to his utter astonishment, two of its 
unwounded comrades seized it by the wings and fairly dragged 
it out of the water, bearing it seawards. Their burden, how- 
ever, was too heavy to be carried for more than a very few 
yards, but other members of the flock came to help, and the 
wounded bird was eventually conveyed to a rock some distance 
away. Edward followed them there with the intention of re- 
covering the injured one, but the whole flock swarmed about 
him and as he neared the rock his prize was once more 
unceremoniously snatched away. This he could easily have 
prevented, but it is not surprising to learn that in the cir- 
cumstances sentiment would not permit him to interfere. 

The impulse to fly to the rescue of a comrade in trouble is 
fairly widespread amongst birds. I can recall more than one 
such case of a Rook or a Crow rescuing its partner from a 
Hawk, and I recently read, in an old number of the Journal of 
the Asiatic Society of Bengal, of a party of Jungle-Babblers 
{Crateropus canorus) performing a similar action. These birds 
are commonly known in India as ' the seven sisters,"* on account 

275 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

of their habit of invariably going about in small parties. A 
young trained Hawk, or Shilira, was flown in a garden at 
a Babbler, which was flying across from one tree to another. 
The Hawk struck her quarry after a short chase and brought it 
to the ground, but no sooner did the rest of the party of 
Babblers hear the cry of their captured sister than they flew to 
the rescue without the slightest show of hesitation and in less 
time than it takes to tell had engaged in a spirited attack on 
the Hawk, who was glad to let the Babbler go and to seek 
refuge herself in a neighbouring bush, while ' the seven sisters," 
justifiably elated at the success of their attempt, flew to a 
mango tree and poui'ed forth volumes of abuse against their 
vanquished enemy. Unless the owner of the Hawk is at 
hand. Babblers will almost always join in an attack of this kind 
and give the bird a real bad time. 

On one occasion the owner of the Shikra mentioned above 
actually caught a Babbler which had perched on the back of 
his Hawk, who was holding another Babbler in her claws, the 
bird which had come to the rescue having got so firm a grip of 
the Shikra that it was with the greatest difficulty removed. 

Small birds often join to attack or to mob Birds-of-Prey and 
drive them from the neighbourhood, and Owls especially are 
persecuted by harassing bands, almost every species in the neigh- 
bourhood collecting together to add their quota to the general 
abuse, till the poor Owl becomes too much confused even to 
attempt to escape, but sits and blinks in silence, the picture of 
abject misery. In the Auk (April, 1890) Mr. Frank BoUes 
describes how he turned to his advantage the Owls' unpopu- 
larity amongst small birds of all kinds, when he wished to attract 
and observe them. The experiments were made in the neigh- 
bourhood of Cambridge (Mass.) with a Barred Owl, one of a 
captive pair which he had named 'Pufly and 'Fluffy.' He 
says : " With the coming of the warm weather and the return of 
the birds in the spring ... I began a series of experiments 
with Puffy which proved of considerable interest. . . . Taking 

276 



I 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

him in a basket to some woods ... I displayed him to the 
Robins, Pigeon Woodpeckers, Vireos, and Warblers which 
chanced to be at hand. No impresario ever was more delighted 
at the success of a new star. A full house gathered at once. 
Armed with a field-glass I had the satisfaction of studying at 
short range the whole bird population of the neighbourhood. 
The Robins, Brown Thrushes, and Pigeon Woodpeckers were 
the noisiest, the Oven-birds and Red-eyed Vireos the most 
persistent, the Chickadees the most indignant. The Wood- 
peckers went so far as to fly past the Owl so close as to brush 
his feathers and make him jump at each charge. . . . When- 
ever on my summer walks I came to a spot which I wished to 
' sample ' for its birds, I would place Puffy on a bending 
sapling, and hiding in the neighbouring foliage, I would 
' squeak ' by di'awing in my breath over the back of my hand, 
and attract the attention of any birds which were near by. An 
alarm was almost sure to be given that would bring birds from 
all directions eager to see the cause of disturbance. 

" Late one afternoon in August I placed Puffy in the midst 
of a white birch grove near a brook. A Cuckoo opened the 
opera and brought some Vireos, including two Solitaries. Their 
explosions were audible a long way, and for a moment or two 
the air seemed full of birds, nearly all Warblers, and all 
coming towards the Owl. I could not count them ; they came 
by scores and swarmed about incessantly like bees. ... 1 never 
expect to see more Warblers in one noisy bunch. As a rule, 
however, a glance or two seemed to satisfy them, and they 
went off after their suppers. . . . 

" The Bluebirds seemed grieved to think anything so wicked 
could exist. They perched near him and seemed to be trying 
with their sweet tones to induce him to give up being an Owl. 
. . . Winter Wrens told Puffy plainly that he was a thief. . . . 
Once or twice Humming-birds have buzzed a moment near Puffy *s 
head, as if adding their small tribute of hatred to the general 
estimate of his character.^' 

277 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

An incident which was witnessed in the States by Mrs. 
Merriam and a friend seems to show that there may be amongst 
birds an occasional philanthropist whose hobby is not always 
appreciated by those upon whom he bestows his well-meant 
help. In some woods these ladies came upon a Chestnut-sided 
Warbler hunting over the bushes. He was traced to a nest 
which contained young, which were being fed by a Redstart, and 
he took his turn at feeding the babies. The nest, which was in 
the crutch of a small beech, appeared to be a compact typical 
Redstart nest, and did not at all suggest the structure made by 
a Chestnut-sided Warbler. With the aid of glasses the birds 
were observed for several hours at intervals during the day, and 
all the while the same singular performance was carried on. 
The Warbler was very assiduous in bringing food, much to 
the annoyance of the Redstart, who appeared not to desire his 
kind offices at all, and did all she could to drive him away. 
But he was not to be discouraged ; like some other philan- 
thropists, he insisted on giving help however little it might 
be wished for or needed. When the Redstart saw him coming 
with food she dashed at him before he was anywhere near the 
tree, her tail wide-spread and annoyance expressed in every 
feather. But nothing could disturb his meekness or discourage 
his interference. He waited until she had finished her angry 
protests, and as soon as her back was turned he slipped up to 
the nest and gave food to the babies. The indignant mother 
would hurry back and pounce upon him with such vigour that 
she came near to tumbling her youngsters out of their nur- 
sery : she was excited, he the image of composure, not at all 
resentful at the snapping of her bill except occasionally when 
they had a little tussle together. 

The next morning one of the young had flown and the other 
had just left the nest. The Warbler seemed to lose track 
of it when it flew to another branch, and tried to follow the 
Redstart, but was at last effectually driven away and the two 
strangely assorted birds were not seen in company again. Two 

278 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

or three weeks later, near the same spot, a Chestnut-sided 
Warbler was seen by the same observers feeding a grey fledgling 
of some much larger species. The big baby followed the little 
Warbler about from tree to tree chirping peremptorily as if he 
had every right to demand service from his hard-worked 
attendant, who had to dash about not only for flies, but to keep 
pace with the active youngster. Could it be the same kind- 
hearted, interfering bird who had devoted himself earlier in the 
month to feeding the young Redstart family ? If so he would ap- 
pear to have been a professed philanthropist w^hose aim in life was 
to work for other birds' children, even when the parents were 
themselves quite capable of looking after them. In any case 
the incidents must be regarded as very interesting and very 
remarkable. 

In speaking of Rooks we mentioned that when a flock is 
feeding, a sentinel is often posted on a neighbouring tree (or on a 
boulder, or the top of a knoll, according to the nature of the 
feeding-ground), where he keeps guard while his companions 
are foraging. Swans, Geese, Flamingoes, Cranes, some Parrots, 
and often Grouse, take the same precaution. 

The smaller kinds of birds, which associate in flocks, never, 
so far as I am aware, have sentinels. Tits, Missel-Thrushes, 
Wheatears, Larks, Pipits, and many others, seem all to be con- 
stantly alert, and the moment any one of the birds espies an 
enemy he gives the alarm, and the whole flock seeks safety in 
flight. Such birds as Tits join into bands on the approach of 
winter, when they have no ties to keep them in one place. 
They then go a-gipsying in flocks, and the advantage which 
they gain from this is clear. In winter-time the food of such 
birds is often scarce and difficult to find, and if individual 
birds were to go hunting for it in solitude it is quite possible 
that their search would be a long one, often too long for their 
well-being. But when a large flock of birds all join in the 
search, as soon as any one of them finds food he announces the 
fact to his companions by the altered tone of his chirping, with 

279 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

the result that the treasure is shared among many. In this 
way there is of course less danger of any single bird going 
dinnerless, though some of them may not have such a rich 
feast as would, if they were lucky, fall to their share as solitary 
hunters. 

Social nesting colonies are formed by many other birds 
besides those to which we have akeady referred, and I think 
none are more striking than those of the different kinds of 
Weaver-bird. These little birds, most of which are Finches, 
make wonderful purse- or bag-like nests which are hung from 
slender branches of trees, often those which overhang the 
water. The nests are closely and cleverly woven of grass, and 
many of them have a long tube, like the leg of a stocking, 
hanging from them, through which the entrance to the nest 
proper is approached. The peculiar form of these nests no 
doubt makes it difficult for snakes to obtain access to them, 
and snakes are amongst a bird's greatest enemies in the warm 
countries, such as Africa and elsewhere, where they make their 
home. Other enemies against which they have to guard are 
monkeys, and the situation of the nests over the water, dependent 
from the very slenderest boughs, no doubt protects them to a 
certain extent from these animals. Whether a monkey would 
be further discouraged by the fact that in order to reach a nest 
he would have to venture into the midst of a company of 
hundreds of birds is doubtful, though it certainly seems 
possible. Often a tree may be seen with as many as a hundred 
nests hanging from it, like some curious form of fruit, and a 
strange and lively scene such a tree presents with all the birds 
flitting briskly backward and forward. 

Cui'ious as many of the Weaver-birds' nests certainly are, 
none are so wonderful as the very remarkable edifice which is 
constructed by the kind whose habits have earned for it the 
name of Sociable Grosbeak (Philetcerus socius), whose home is 
in South Africa, north of the Orange River. These strange 
dwellings were, I believe, first described by Lieutenant Paterson 

2S0 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

in his account of J Joimiey in South Africa, in the year 
1779. 

He says : " I have had frequent occasion to mention the 
Mimosa ... a vegetable production which . . . produces in con- 
siderable quantities a clear transparent gum . . . esteemed by 
the natives as a peculiarly delicate species of food . . . and 
the boughs afford an asylum to a species of gregarious Bird, 
which seems guided by instinct in the choice of its habita- 
tion, for which the tree is peculiarly adapted. The stem being 
about thirty feet high before it sends out branches, and covered 
with a smooth polished bark, the birds are defended against 
the different species of snakes and other reptiles which sur- 
round them, and which would otherwise destroy their eggs ; 
while the extent of the branches allows sufficient room for the 
increasing colony. 

" The method in which these birds usually fabricate their nests 
is highly curious. . . . There could be no less a number than 
from eight hundred to a thousand residing under the same roof. 
I call it a roof, because it perfectly resembles that of a thatched 
house ; and the ridge forms an angle so acute and so smooth, 
projecting over the entrance of the nest below, that it is im- 
possible for any reptile to approach them. 

" Their industry seems almost equal to that of the bee ; 
throughout the day they appear to be busily employed in 
carrying a fine species of grass, which is the principal material 
they employ for the purpose of erecting this extraordinary 
work, as well as for additions and repairs. . . . Many trees . . . 
I have seen borne down with the weight, and others I have 
observed with their boughs completely covered over ; when the 
tree, which is the support of this aerial city, is obliged to give 
way to the increase of weight, it is obvious that they are no 
longer protected, and are under the necessity of rebuilding in 
other trees. 

"One of these deserted nests I had the curiosity to break 
down, so as to inform myself of the internal structure of it, 

281 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

and found it equally ingenious with that of the external. 
There are many entrances, each of which forms a regular street, 
with nests on both sides, at about two inches distance from 
each other."" 

The first part of this surprising account is true enough, and 
has been verified many times by later travellers, but we shall 
see that the last sentence is merely a romantic embellishment. 
The Sociable Grosbeaks are unpretentious little birds, not 
unlike common Sparrows, but there is nothing unpretentious 
about their great block of dwellings, which is three feet 
high and almost twice as much in diameter ; seen in the dis- 
tance, one of these immense structures may easily be mistaken 
for a native hut. Under the great roof a hundred or more 
nests are joined together, side by side ; indeed, in one colony 
as many as three hundi'ed and twenty different nests were 
counted. The social instinct which leads birds to construct 
such a marvellous building must be regarded as very remark- 
able, for considerable powers of co-operation are called into play. 

The way in which the nest is made is as follows. Having 
chosen a suitable tree, all the birds in the community begin to 
collect material for the roof, which is laboriously built on the 
support of one or more convenient branches, and it is not until 
this general covering of thatch has been completed that the 
many pairs of birds begin to form their own nests. These, 
like the roof, are made of grass, and are attached side by 
side to the under surface of the roof. By the time they 
are all finished the lower side of the structure no longer 
forms one great hollow, but presents an even surface per- 
forated by a multitude of small circular openings, each of 
which is the entrance to the private apartment of one pair 
of birds. The birds are said never to use the same apart- 
ment in the great nest for two years in succession, though they 
remain many years under the same roof; with the return of 
spring each pair builds a new chamber below the old one, so 
that the old nest merely becomes a part of the general cover- 

282 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

ing or thatch. So year by year the mass grows larger and 
heavier, until at last the tree on which it rests may, as described 
by Lieutenant Paterson, be borne down by the weight of it. 

It might be supposed that the great slanting roof, together 
with the position of the entrances to the nests, all pointing 
downwards, would afford ample protection not merely from 
rain (which it does very effectively), but from the attacks of any 
kind of animal ; that, however, is not always the case, for even 
these nests are liable to be invaded by the larger kinds of 
snakes. Holub tells us that he himself killed a great snake 
just as it had gained admission to one of them. It had 
already killed and thrown out several birds, and was just begin- 
ning to enjoy the eggs and fledglings when Holub caught sight 
of its tail and put an end to its depredations. 

One would think that sociability in nesting could be carried 
no further than it is by these little birds which all make their 
home under the same roof, but there are in the Antilles and 
the opposite continent some curious birds often known as 
Savana Blackbirds, but which naturalists call Anis {Crotophaga 
ani% which associate not only under the same roof, but actually 
in the same chamber. The Ani, in common with Ostriches, 
Hornbills, and various Parrots, has eyelashes, a feature which 
is in itself a rare mark of distinction among birds. It has 
black plumage, and in some of the British colonies its moral 
character is supposed to be in harmony with the colour of its 
coat, for under the title of the ' Black Witch ' the bird is 
accused of all kinds of dreadful malpractices — though as 
a matter of fact it is quite innocent of the misdeeds 
attributed to it. When perched on trees the Anis sit close 
together in rows, and being good-natured, sociable birds they 
are rarely seen alone. In Jamaica they may constantly be 
observed in little flocks wherever cattle are pastured, and they 
render a similar service of freeing the animals from parasites to 
that which we have already described in the case of various 
other birds. Meanwhile they invariably post one or more 

283 



BIRDS IN SOCIETY 

sentinels on a neighbouring tree to keep guard and to give 
warning with their curious cry, which is strangely like the 
wailing of a robust kitten, should any danger occur. 

The chief interest of these birds lies, however, in their nest- 
ing habits. Many individuals co-operate in building in a tree 
a large nest of twigs, covered with leaves ; as a wasps' nest is 
often found in the same tree the dwelling is usually difficult to 
approach. As soon as the building is finished the hen-birds lay 
their eggs pell-mell, all together ; each egg is about the size of 
a Pigeon's and is coated over with a chalky film, which at first 
completely hides the blue shell. Sometimes as many as twenty- 
one eggs are found in a single nest, arranged in layers with a 
few leaves between them. Of course a single bird cannot in- 
cubate such a large sitting, so this important duty is carried on 
in a sociable manner by several hens brooding together, side by 
side. When the young are hatched the friendly parents all 
assist in feeding them, and it is clearly impossible for any bird 
under such conditions to have any means of distinguishing its 
own offspring. The youngsters leave the nest long before they 
are ready to fly and hop about amongst the branches with their 
parents, the whole great family forming a very happy party. 



284 



CHAPTER XVII 
STRANGE COMPANIONS 

Friendly relations between animals of diiFerent species — Probable advan- 
tages—Rhinoceros and Rhinoceros-bird— Ox-peckers, Cattle-Herons, and 
their English representatives — The Kea Parrot : a digression— Crocodile 
and Crocodile-bird— Burrowing Owls and their associates— A 'happy 
family?' — Fox and Duck: a doubtful case— Eagles and Sparrows — 
Legionary guards of ants and wasps — Honey-guides and their accom- 
phces. 

VERY many birds — perhaps indeed the majority of them 
— are sociable creatures. We have already seen that 
they frequently gather in flocks when hunting for their 
food, or join in warlike bands to attack an enemy; or again, 
that they form little colonies — tov/nships we might almost call 
them — for the purpose of bringing up their young. It seems 
to be not always merely for direct and material advantage that 
they seek company (though there is usually some benefit to be 
derived from the companionship), nor is it invariably with their 
own kind that they associate. It is well known that Thrushes 
and Robins form strong attachments for those who are kind to 
them, and seem almost as capable of being pleased by praise or 
depressed by blame as a pet dog. Parrots, again, which in 
their wild state are always very sociable in their habits, seem to 
be perfectly contented in captivity if only they have sufficient 
attention ; they are not happy when left alone, but like to be 
talked to and made much of. The capacity for enjoying the 
companionship of other animals is not confined to the most 
highly developed birds such as Parrots, or indeed to birds at 
all. Mr. Schillings, the great explorer and naturalist, and the 
author of several interesting books about the animals of 

285 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

Afiica, noticed during his travels two elephants which were 
constantly in the company of an old male giraffe. Day after day 
the three friends were seen together, and it is possible that 
they all benefited by the association in this way : the elephant 
has a very keen sense of smell, but his hearing is not nearly 
so acute as that of the giraffe ; the giraffe has the advan- 
tage, owing to his very long neck, of a considerably wider 
look-out than the elephant; by joining forces, therefore, the 
animals could render one another the service of mutual protec- 
tion, the giraffe contributing the eyes and ears to the partner- 
ship and the elephant the sensitive nose, and an enemy of any 
kind whatever attempting to get near the tiiree friends would 
probably have found himself frustrated owing to the alertness 
of one or other of the party. 

In the same way Ostriches, zebras, and gnus, or Ostriches 
and antelopes, are often found in company, and there is the 
greatest companionship between hyenas and jackals ; some- 
times jackals appear at their ease in the company of a lion, 
but such a friendship is dangerous, for if game happens to be 
scarce the jackal is quite likely to provide a supper for the 
lion in a way that is not contemplated in his particular title 
of ' the lion's provider.' 

All these animal friendships are very interesting, but a far 
more curious companionship is that between the rhinoceros and 
his feathered satellite, the Rhinoceros-bird {BupJiaga eiythro- 
rhyncJia). The Rhinoceros-bird is a little fellow about the size 
of our English Blackbird, with a greyish-brown back, a yellow- 
ish waistcoat, golden eyelids, and a light red beak. It is found 
over almost the whole of Central Africa and as far south as 
Natal, and is usually seen in little flocks of six to eight birds 
following about the country some of the larger kinds of animals 
— often, as its name suggests, the rhinoceros, but not infre- 
quently elephants or herds of cattle, or even giraffes. The 
birds may constantly be seen perching on the back of one of 
their strange comrades, who appears not to pay the slightest 

286 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

attention to them. As a matter of fact, he is no doubt very 
pleased to receive such visitors, on account of the good ser- 
vices they render him, for, from his point of view, it is their 
business to deliver him from the discomfort occasioned by bots 
or tics, which he would find it extremely difficult or perhaps 
impossible to get rid of were it not for the assistance of his 
little friends. They for their part, of course, look upon their 
big companion as a happy hunting-ground for food, so both 
parties benefit by the friendship and are satisfied. 

But as hunters are well aware, there is another service which 
Rhinoceros-birds render their host, and that is to give him warn- 
ing of any impending danger ; they are always alert and watch- 
ful, and the slightest alarm is followed by such an outburst of 
twittering and such a fluttering of wings that the animal is at 
once put on his guard and springs to attention, ready either to 
meet attack or to take flight. Even in this, however, the ser- 
vice is not entirely one-sided, for, as is now well known, the 
sense of smell is very poorly developed in most birds ; even 
Vultures, which were formerly thought to be able to scent their 
prey from afar, are quite unable to find the carrion, if it is hidden 
from sight, though not more than a few feet away from them. 
The rhinoceros, on the other hand, like the elephant, has this 
sense developed in a remarkable degree, so that it is sometimes 
he who gives notice to the birds of the approach of danger. 

There are many birds besides the Rhinoceros-bird which are 
found associating with animals of various kinds. There is, for 
instance, its South African relative, the Ox-pecker (Buphaga 
africana). It is very interesting to watch a party of these 
birds moving about the body of an ox or a horse, creeping 
over him in all directions and assuming the most unexpected 
attitudes while they search in a business-like way for food. In 
the southern part of the continent this is quite a familiar 
sight ; no sooner is a team of oxen outspanned than a party of 
Ox-peckers arrive on the scene and perch on some neighbour- 
ing tree to watch until it is time for them to commence their 

287 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

operations. They never seem to intrude until the animals have 
all been watered and have settled down to steady grazing; 
then, one after another, they leave their tree-top and, after 
circling in the air two or three times to reconnoitre, make 
choice of an animal and settle down in a row upon his back- 
bone. For a minute or two they remain quiet as if to make 
quite sure they are not likely to be disturbed during their 
meal ; then they set to work. There is no doubt that their 
attentions are very much appreciated by the ox, which may 
often be seen stretching himself out as if to give them every 
facility for thorough exploration. Having obtained all the 
food they can from one animal they transfer their ministrations 
to another, and so on until their appetite is satisfied. 

We cannot attempt to mention all or nearly all of the birds 
which constitute themselves regular attendants upon cattle. 
In America there are several, such, for example, as the homely 
but much esteemed Phoebe, which hunts the flies which torment 
them. In Madagascar it is a species of Heron which renders 
this service to the animals, and the birds are highly valued by 
the Malagasy, who, being themselves far too lazy to perform 
kind offices for their cattle, would regard it almost as sacrilege 
to destroy their feathered servants ; consequently Herons are 
very numerous in the island, and five hundred or more may 
occasionally be seen roosting in the trees together. In the 
morning the sleeping party breaks up and the birds distribute 
themselves amongst the cattle. In Lower Egypt and elsewhere 
in Africa, the little Cattle-Heron {Buhulcus ibis) is constantly 
seen in the company of oxen and buffaloes ; and as many as 
twenty birds often become the self-appointed body-servants of 
an elephant. Here again the birds live on most excellent terms 
with the natives and carry on their work quite regardless of 
their presence, often frequenting villages or encampments. 

It is not necessary, however, to go abroad to find examples 
of this kind of companionship between birds and cattle. In 
England Starlings may often be seen hunting in little flocks 

288 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

around grazing animals and running over their backs one after 
another, much as the Ox-peckers do in South Africa. I have 
also seen sheep standing quite still, enjoying the attentions 
of Rooks perched upon their backs. 

It is possible, however, that the birds are not always as 
friendly as they might at first appear to be, for on a certain 
day in early spring, when birds were busy with their nests, my 
mother observed a party of Crows or Rooks perched upon a 
thick-coated donkey, three on its neck and two on its back, 
assiduously engaged in tearing out bunches of hair with their 
powerful bills, while the donkey patiently submitted to their 
outrageous treatment. 

This incident recalls the still less pleasant relations which 
have sprung up between the Kea Parrots and sheep in New 
Zealand. Parrots, like Birds -of- Prey, have strong hooked 
beaks, which in both cases are used for tearing the food into 
small pieces, though the diet of Birds-of-Prey consists of flesh, 
while Parrots are vegetarians. Since sheep-farming became 
prevalent in the colony the Kea Parrots have developed a 
taste for mutton, greatly to the annoyance of the farmers, and 
their proceedings are peculiarly objectionable. Parties of the 
birds worry a sheep until it is exhausted, and then settle 
upon its back and dig down with their beaks until they reach 
the fat around the kidneys, on which they feast, with a fatal 
result to the victim. How they learnt this bad habit nobody 
knows ; several explanations have been suggested, but as none 
of them is very satisfactory we need not enter into them here. 

A far stranger case of friendship than any to which we 
have hitherto referred is that between the crocodile and the 
Crocodile-bird, which attracted the attention of Herodotus 
more than two thousand years ago. This is what the old 
historian wrote on the subject : *' As the crocodile lives chiefly 
in the river he has the inside of his mouth constantly covered 
with leeches ; hence it happens that while all other birds and 
beasts avoid him he is at peace with the Trochilos since he 

T 289 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

receives good from that bird. For the crocodile, when he 
leaves the water and gets upon the land, lies with his mouth 
wide open facing the western breeze ; at such times the 
Trochilos enters his mouth and devours the leeches. This is 
good for the crocodile, who is pleased and takes care not 
to hm-t the Trochilos." This queer story of an entente cordiale 
between such ill-assorted neighbours was repeated by many later 
writers for centuries afterwards. The old seventeenth-century 
chronicler Purchas, for instance, gives us in Purchas his Pil- 
grimes the following quaint version of the tale as it appeared 
in the book on Africa published about half a century before by 
Giovanni Leone (or John Leo as we might perhaps call him in 
English), the traveller a,nd geographer : — 

"As we sayled further, we saw great numbers of crocodiles 
upon the bankes of the islands in the midst of Nilus, lye bask- 
ing them in the sunne, with their jawes wide open, whereunto 
certaine little birds about the bignesse of a thrush entering, 
came flying forth againe presently after. The occasion whereof 
was told me to be this : The crocodile by reason of their con- 
tinual devouring beasts and fishes, have certaine pieces of flesh 
sticking fast between their forked teeth, which flesh being 
putrified, breedeth a kind of worme wherewith they are cruelly 
tormented, wherefor the said birds, flying about and seeing the 
wormes, enter into the crocodile's jawes to satisfy their hunger 
thereon, but the crocodile, perceiving himself freed from the 
wormes of his teeth, off'ereth to shut his mouth, and to devour 
the little bird that did him so good a turn, but being hindered 
from his ungrateful attempt by a prickle which groweth on 
the bird's head, he is constrained to open his jaws and to let 
her depart." 

Giovanni was evidently not a very firm believer in the 
crocodile's friendship, but he was mistaken in saying that his 
evil intentions are frustrated by a prickle which grows on the 
bird's head. What Giovanni mistook for a prickle is nothing 
more than a graceful crest of slender feathers, which might 

3Q0 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

tickle the crocodile''s throat, but would certainly not hurt him. 
That, however, is the old legend, and we find it repeated again 
with slight variations in the eighteenth century. In the nine- 
teenth century the same tale was told by the Nile boatmen to 
travellers and tourists ; but in these critical days such a wonder- 
ful story was not likely to pass unchallenged, and it came to be 
regarded with mild amusement and a considerable amount of 
doubt, to say the least of it. Two birds were pointed out to 
tourists as being the very " Trochilos " of Herodotus : two 
species of Plover, both of them beautiful and graceful birds 
which may often be seen haunting the sand -banks of the Nile. 

One of these birds is the Spur-winged Plover (Charadrius 
spinosus), which is not unlike our own beautiful Lapwing 
either in general appearance or habits. The peculiarity of 
this bird, however, is that on each wing it has a spur which 
is sometimes very long and sharp but occasionally a mere 
knob, and the Egyptians have a much more plausible story 
than that of Giovanni Leone to tell concerning the bird, which, 
from its note, they call the Zic-zac. 

According to Dr. Adams, they say that the crocodile some- 
times falls asleep while his leech-catcher is at work, and forgets 
to keep his mouth open. " On such occasions the Zic-zac applies 
his spurs to the interior of the Crocodile's mouth, by way of 
refreshing the memory of the latter that his faithful henchman 
is within, when the monster's jaws open immediately, as if his 
reptilian majesty was sorry for his obliviousness. This addition 
to the old story was given me on good authority as being very 
generally believed among the Nile boatmen." 

The other bird which disputes with the Spur-wing the 
honour of being associated with the ancient family of croco- 
diles is the Black-headed Plover (Pluvianus cegyptius). A few 
years ago, however, both the Black-headed Plover and the 
Spur-wing seemed likely to lose their reputation ; but at that 
time Mr. John M. Cook, of tourist fame, wrote a letter to 
the Ihis^ in which he emphatically confirmed the old story and 

2^1 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

stated that he had but recently learnt that it was seriously 
doubted. 

In his letter, he says that when he was travelling on the 
Nile in March, 1876, with several members of his family, they 
noticed some large crocodiles accompanied by Crocodile-birds 
on an extensive sand-bank between the First and Second 
Cataract. 

He and his brother-in-law decided to watch them. That, 
however, is by no means an easy matter, for it happens that 
as in the other cases of friendship between bird and animal 
which we have already mentioned, the bird in this instance 
also is an indefatigable sentinel, and is thoroughly detested by 
all sportsmen who meet with it. Many a gunner who has 
spent hours in attempting to out-manoeuvre a flock of Geese 
has been frustrated at last by a prattling Zic-zac standing 
on a sand-bank jerking his head up and down or wheeling 
about overhead and shrieking out his warning to every living 
creature for half a mile around. - Mr. Cook, therefore, had to 
resort to strategy in order to be able to observe the birds and 
crocodiles at close quarters, so during the night he had a pit 
dug in the sand-bank, in which he and his brother-in-law con- 
cealed themselves at daybreak. Nothing interesting occurred 
until noon, when two large crocodiles came out of the water 
and settled down for their midday sun-bath, and very soon 
afterwards several Spur- wings began to flit about them. 
Through their field-glasses the watchers were able to observe 
quite clearly everything that took place, and what they saw 
was this. One of the birds deliberately approached a crocodile 
who was apparently fast asleep, but who at once opened his 
jaws to welcome his visitor. The invitation was accepted ; in 
hopped the bird and down closed the huge mouth : in a minute 
or so the beast opened its jaws again, and the bird, apparently 
none the worse for its temporary imprisonment, went down to 
the water's edge. It was too far away for Mr. Cook to see 
exactly what it did there, but after a few seconds it returned to 

292 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

the crocodile and the incident was repeated. The same thing 
happened a third time, so that there could be no doubt as to 
the bird entering the crocodile's mouth. 

The story is so circumstantial and so clear that we cannot, I 
think, deny to the Spur-wing the right to be recognised as a 
true Crocodile-bird. It seems quite likely, however, that the 
Black-headed Plover lives on equally intimate terms with these 
huge reptiles ; and Brehm tells us that he himself has re- 
peatedly seen that bird picking the crocodile's teeth, exactly as 
the ancients stated that it was in the habit of doing. 

Extraordinary and unlikely as it may seem, then, that any 
friendly feelings can exist between such a hideous and ravenous 
creature as the crocodile and these extremely dainty and 
attractive birds, I think we must admit that there is a working 
agreement between them, and that even the crocodile can 
realise that it would not be to his advantage to hurt the little 
neighbour who looks after him so carefully. This is the more 
remarkable as crocodiles are, as a rule, quite ready to profit by 
any opportunity of making a meal of a disabled bird. Even a 
full-grown Vulture, feathers, claws, beak, and all — as unattrac- 
tive a mouthful as one could imagine — has been discovered 
intact in a crocodile's stomach. 

The most famous of all the associations which exist between 
birds and animals is undoubtedly that of the prairie-marmots 
of North America and the little Burrowing Owls. The prairie- 
marmots, or prairie-dogs as they are often called, are queer 
little animals which form large colonies known as ' dog-towns,' 
consisting of a great number of burrows with a mound of earth 
at the mouth of each, on which the owner sits and surveys 
the surrounding country, or amuses himself with a kind of 
cheerful yelping conversation with his neighbours. The Owls 
are quite small birds, not nearly so large as the smallest of our 
English Owls, and they may often be seen sitting in couples 
very close together and looking very Darby-and-Joan-like, 
somewhere about the mound, in company with the prairie- 

293 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

marmot. When alarmed they all scuttle into the bmTow as 
fast as they can. But besides the Owls and the marmots there 
is often yet another inhabitant of the burrow, and that is a 
rattlesnake. A good deal of nonsense has been v/ritten about 
the pleasant relations which exist between these apparently 
ill-assorted companions. According to the accounts which 
were repeated in all the natural history books for many years, 
one would imagine that they form a kind of Bamum's ' happy 
family' whose harmonious and confidential relations are typical 
of all that is most pleasant in a Utopian dream ; but this 
beautiful fairy-tale has unfortunately been found to have not 
very much foundation in fact. Dr. Coues satirises these stories 
in a very amusing fashion : " According to the dense bathos of 
such nursery tales, in this underground Elysium the snakes give 
their rattles to the puppies to play with, the old dogs cuddle 
the Owlets, and farm out their own litters to the grave and 
careful birds ; when an Owl and a dog come home, paw-in-wing, 
they are often mistaken by their respective progeny."" It is a 
beautiful story and it seems almost a pity to spoil it, but there 
are things as strange and wonderful in the real lives of animals 
as any that have been imagined by stay-at-home naturalists, so 
we will try to do without such pretty fictions and to see what 
really goes on in these mysterious underground dwellings, the 
homes of the prairie-marmots. 

If we could enter at the little round hole which is the front 
door of the marmot's habitation, we should find that it leads 
into a long and complicated burrow which is connected with 
other similar burrows in a kind of labyrinth, like the winding 
streets of an old city. Some of the burrows end in little 
chambers or living-rooms, and when the owners are not busy 
eating or gossiping with their neighbours they spend a good 
deal of time repairing or extending their dwellings. As in 
other towns, some of the dwellings are unoccupied, and these 
offer a convenient home for the little Owls, who are quite able 
to dig for themselves, but are by no means so expert in excavat- 

294 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

ing as the marmots, so that they not umiaturally are glad to 
take advantage of the labom^ of those little animals. It is 
true that the Owls and marmots have often been seen scuttling 
into the same hole, but that does not prove that they live in the 
same room, for in their anxiety to take refuge underground 
when disturbed they might very well disregard for a moment 
the real owner's claim to privacy ; and it is of course often quite 
possible for two distinct dwelling-chambers to be approached 
from the same vestibule. 

As to the rattlesnakes, they are as venomous and dangerous 
in the dog-towns as anywhere else ; as acquaintances they are 
undesirable ; as visitors it may safely be assumed that they are 
after no good. They are fond of wriggling into holes, and 
the burrows are there like great free hotels where they can 
secure with the least amount of trouble both board and lodging, 
for within they find an appetising supply of puppies, Owlets, 
and eggs, of all of which they are very fond. In their turn the 
Owls no doubt enjoy a succulent young puppy, and may occa- 
sionally take their revenge by dining off the rattlesnake. The 
poor prairie-marmot is the chief sufferer, for he is imposed 
upon by both parties and gets nothing in return, except an 
unsought notoriety in natural history books. But like Mark 
Tapley, the little animals are always cheerful, always "jolly" 
however unpleasant the circumstances may be ; they accept the 
situation philosophically and live on familiar, if not altogether 
cordial, terms with their unbidden guests. 

In South America, where there are no prairie-marmots, the 
Owls quarter themselves upon the vizcachas, which are gnawing- 
animals about the size of rabbits and are closely related to the 
chinchillas, from which the beautiful soft chinchilla fur of 
commerce is obtained. The vizcachas do not form great towns 
consisting of hundreds of little mounds scattered over the plain 
like those of the prairie-dogs, but fifteen or twenty individuals 
establish on the pampas a sort of residential club, which the 
natives call a vizcacheria. A vizcacheria is a large mound or 

295 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

hump formed by the earth which is thrown out of the ground 
when the animals are making their burrows, the openings of 
which may be seen around the mound. It is kept very clean 
and very tidy, every scrap of vegetation being carefully 
removed ; and the ground round about is smooth like a lawn, 
because the vizcachas bite off the grass very closely. In this 
way there is no doubt they greatly improve the quality of the 
turf, just as sheep do, and so have been of benefit to the 
farmers ; but in spite of that they are not regarded with a 
friendly eye, because not only does the vizcacheria occupy a 
great deal of land — that perhaps would not be of very great 
importance on these wide plains — -but its inhabitants eat a 
large amount of fodder. They are therefore persecuted and 
discouraged as much as possible, but it is no easy matter to get 
rid of them, because the task of digging out such a compli- 
cated warren is an almost impossible one. 

A very remarkable and very interesting fact concerning the 
vizcachas may as well be mentioned here. We have already seen 
that certain birds, especially the Bower-birds of Australia and 
New Guinea, collect all sorts of queer objects such as bleached 
bones, pebbles, shells, or almost anything that is hard and port- 
able, and heap them up beside their bower, where they seem to be 
intended partly for decoration and partly for use as playthings. 
The vizcacha is, so far as I know, the only animal with a similar 
habit. On the top of the vizcacheria are found piled together 
wath the dehris of the inhabitants' food (consisting of thistle- 
stalks, maize-cobs, and the like) all kinds of objects which they 
have come across in their wanderings : bones of cattle and of the 
South American Ostriches are there, stones and clods of earth, 
and anything else which is to be picked up on the pampas. 
Moreover, just as in the case of the Bower-birds, if a passer-by 
happen to lose any of his smaller belongings, such as a watch or 
a knife, the vizcachas are pretty sure to add it to their collection, 
and the best way to set about recovering lost property is first 
of all to call and make inquiries at all the vizcacherias in the 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

neighbourhood. Such then is the companion of the Burrowing 
Owls in South America, and no doubt the relations between the 
two are not more or less cordial than in the case of their 
representatives in the northern continent. But as the vizcacha 
is a somewhat larger animal than the prairie-marmot, it is possible 
that he is better able to look after his interests and see that he 
is not imposed upon by his lodgers. 

There is one peculiarity about these little Owls which we have 
not yet mentioned. As they sit sedately on the summit of a 
mound, looking very comical and top-heavy on their long 
shanks, they have a habit of twisting their head round so as 
to keep the passer-by constantly in sight without making any 
movement of their body, and should he move round them in a 
circle it almost seems as if they were in danger of screwing their 
heads right off. Often they greet the visitor with a series of little 
bows and indulge in curious antics, of which Captain Bendire 
gives a most amusing account. He says : " The element of the 
grotesque is never wanting ; it is hard to say whether they look 
most ludicrous as they stand stiffly erect and motionless, or when 
they suddenly turn tail and duck into the hole, or when engaged 
in their various antics. Bolt upright, on what may be imagined 
their rostrum, they gaze about with a bland and self-satisfied, 
but earnest air, as if about to address an audience upon a sub- 
ject of great pith and moment. They suddenly bow low^, 
with profound gravity, and rising as abruptly, they begin 
to twitch their face and roll their eyes about in the most 
mysterious manner, gesticulating wildly, every now and then 
bending forward till the breast almost touches the ground, to 
propound the argument with more telling effect. Then they 
face about to address the rear, that all may alike feel the force 
of their logic ; they draw themselves up to their fullest height, 
outwardly calm and self-contained, pausing in the discourse to 
note its effect upon the audience, and collect their wits for the 
next rhetorical flourish." 

The rest of their time out-of-doors is spent in hunting for 
297 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

insects and the small rodents which form theu' food, hovering 
suspended in the air like a Hawk and then dai-ting do^rn 
noiselessly and swiftly and seizing their prey without arresting 
their flight for a moment. In twenty-four hours a pair of these 
Owls will eat considerably more than theu' own weight of food, 
and as most of it consists of noxious vermin there is no doubt 
that they are immensely beneficial. 

Their love-note is a mellow, far-reaching ^^ coo-c-o-o"' long 
drawn out, not unlike the cry of a Cuckoo, but less staccato. 
Sitting on his hillock, the male bird sometimes keeps up his 
serenade for an hour or more. 

A fable which had its origin among the Indians states that 
at the approach of winter the Owls retire into the burrows 
and hibernate : but in most localities they may be seen abroad 
all the year round, and where thev disappear from their 
summer quarters on the approach of cold weather it is 
doubtless owing to then- migrating to a more congenial 
climate. 

It remains to be said that no birds carry more mbbish into 
their homes than these, and that even Vultures are not much 
more unclean. There is certainly nothing romantic about their 
underground living-room. Little scraps of dead animals, bits 
of skin, the remains of a snake, perhaps, and invariabl}' count- 
less fleas, make the buiTOw as insanitary a dwelling as any 
that is occupied bv a bird. 

Sometimes the birds occupy the underground dens of 
badgers or foxes, but it is hardly likely that they share them 
with those animals, although, if we may rely on the accuracy 
of a story related by Brehm, it is not altogether unknown that 
the fox and the badger should tolerate the society of a bird. 
In this case the bird concerned was the handsome Sheld-duck 
or Burrow-duck {Tadorna coi'nida), which is fo'jnd all the 
year round on suitable parts of our coast and on those of other 
countries bordering on the North Sea, preferring the neigh- 
bourhood of mud -flats or low sand-hills, where its food is most 

29S 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

plentiful. It is a fine bird about two feet long, with a dark 
glossy green head and neck and a broad white collar, the re- 
mainder of the plumage being black, white, and rich chestnut. 
Specimens may now often be seen on the ornamental waters in 
our parks, and they are easily recognised by their bold, striking 
appearance. 

Brehm''s story is as follows. Towards the end of May, while 
a forester was busily employed in a wood near the coast, he 
observed a pair of Sheld-duck flying several times around him- 
self and his men and at last settling on a hillock of sand ; 
there the Drake remained to keep watch while the Duck dis- 
appeared into a buiTOw in the hillock. In about a quarter of 
an hour the latter came out again, and after exchanging 
polite greetings the pair of them flew away and alighted on 
several different spots one after another, as though for the 
purpose of misleading the person who was watching them. On 
going to the mound where they had first settled the forester 
found there the earth of a fox, at the entrance to which there 
were numerous recent footmarks of both fox and Sheld-duck. 
He kept the birds under observation for several days, and he 
discovered that this was not their actual abode, but that they 
had settled down in the much larger earth of a badger, which 
appeared to be frequented by a fox as well as by the real pro- 
prietor. He found that the badger was in the habit of going 
about his business without concerning himself in the least with 
his housemates, whose mingled footprints could be traced far 
into the burrow. There were other holes connected with the 
same den, through which the fox was in the habit of passing, 
and in these also the ground was trampled down by the Sheld- 
duck, between the large imprints of whose feet the impressions 
of the fox's delicate paws could be clearly seen. 

Concealing himself behind a sand-bank, the forester kept 
watch, and was soon rewarded by seeing the artful birds pay 
a visit to their sham nesting-place as before, after which, fly- 
ing close to the ground, they came to their true dwelling and, 

299 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

having reconnoitred for a few moments, disappeared into the 
den. where one of them remained. According to this account, 
then, a badger, a fox, and a pair of Sheld-duck apparently 
lived in amity in the same dwelling ; and if that be so it is 
quite conceivable that a BuiTOwing Owl might do the same, 
though we are not accustomed to regard the fox as being by 
any means a clubbable creature, especially in its relations with 
the feathered kind. 

But after all it is not really very much more improbable 
than the relations which exist between some large and power- 
ful birds of predatory habits and their weaker kindred. Whole 
colonies of Tree-Sparrows often make their quarters in the huge 
mass of material of which a Sea-Eagle"s nest is composed. The 
impudent little birds hop about without caring either for the 
young or the old Eagles, and quite friendly relations seem to 
exist between the mighty lords of the nests and the little 
intruders. These Eagles, however, never appear to pay atten- 
tion to small birds, which they perhaps consider too insignifi- 
cant for their notice. Turtle-Doves and Thrushes have often 
been obsen-ed quietly sitting on their nesting-trees, and on one 
occasion a Wild Duck had chosen this very unlikely locality for 
the purpose of rearing its own family. 

Ospreys are equally tolerant and, in places where they are 
common on the North American coast, Purple Grackles or 
Crow-Blackbirds often make their homes in the interstices of 
their bulky nests, as many as eight or ten pairs taking up 
their quarters under the protection of their powerful neighbour 
and showing considerable boldness in helping themselves to 
fragments from his table. They probably owe their immunity 
from interference to the fact that the Osprey's diet consists 
entirely of fish. 

Perhaps the most curious of all the associations into which 
birds enter with other animals is seen in the advantage which 
thev take of the protection afforded by a colony of stinging 
or biting insects. Many of the Orioles in tropical America 

300 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

hang their nests from the extreme end of a branch of the 
prickly bulFs-horn thorn, where they are protected not only by 
the formidable thorns, but by the stinging ants which inhabit 
them. In the same country, on the plains, a small species of 
Parrot secures protection by building in a hole made in the 
nest of a colony of termites, or 'white ants' as they are 
sometimes called, and the Cassique {Cass'icus persicus) often 
chooses for nesting purposes a tree which is also inhabited by 
these insects. It is possible that the birds sometimes regard 
their neighbours as suitable material for a meal, but Mr. Bart- 
lett, who watched them for hours, could never discover that 
they interfered with the insects, while he himself had very great 
difficulty in obtaining a Cassique''s eggs and nest owing to the 
considerable risk of being severely stung in the attempt. In 
Australia a Long-tailed Kingfisher {Tanysiptera sylvid) burrows 
into ant-hills for nesting purposes. 

Wasps also are often regarded by birds as desirable neigh- 
bours, and the same Cassique which shares a tree with white 
ants often makes its home in the neighbourhood of a large 
wasps' nest. One of the South American Flycatchers takes 
similar precautions, and the little Grass-Quit of Jamaica 
{SpermopMla olivacea) not only builds in the neighbourhood of 
a wasps' nest, but plans its own home so that its front door may 
be quite close to their cells. It is an interesting comment on 
the character of their body-guard, however, that birds which 
build in these situations nearly always construct covered nests, 
probably in order to ensure themselves against possible attacks 
from their unstable friends. 

The part played by hymenopterous insects in the alliance 
entered into by the Honey-guides, though important, is an un- 
enviable one, for it is to exploit and rob them that the birds 
seek an accomplice. There are several species of Honey-guide, 
but that which is best known is the South African species first 
described by Dr. Sparrman, and called after him Indicator 
sparrmani. It is a small and inconspicuous bird, no larger 

301 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

than a Lark ; its colour iron-grey above and white beneath, and 
its bill very like that of a Sparrow. 

Now this little bird is very fond of honeycomb, or of the 
grubs contained in a bees"" nest, or perhaps of both ; but though 
it has no difficulty in finding the nest, it is not strong enough 
to break in without assistance. It has discovered, however, that 
other more powerful animals also have a fondness for honey, and 
that if they can be induced to follow to the nest their guide 
stands a chance of getting a share of the spoil. It therefore 
looks out for an accomplice, and Dr. Sparrman says : " Not only 
the Dutch and Hottentots, but likewise a species of quadruped 
named Ratel — [Mellivora capensis^ an animal closely related to 
Badgers, whose food consists chiefly of honeycomb, which it 
easily digs out with its powerful claws] — are frequently con- 
ducted to the wild bee hives by this bird, which, as it were, 
pilots them to the very spot. The honey being its favourite 
food, its own interest prompts it to be instrumental in robbing 
the hive, as some scraps are commonly left for its support. 

" The morning and evening are its times of feeding, and it is 
then heard calling in a shrill tone, cherr, cherr, which the 
honey-hunters carefully attend to as the summons to the chase. 
From time to time they answer with a soft whistle, which the 
bird hearing always continues its note. As soon as they are in 
sight of each other, the bird gradually flutters towards the 
place where the hive is situated, continually repeating its 
former call of che^T, cherr ; nay, if it should happen to have 
gained a considerable way before the men (who may easily 
be hindered in the pursuit by bushes, rivers, or the like), it re- 
turns to them again, and redoubles the note, a.s if to reproach 
them with their inactivity. At last the bird is observed to 
hover for a few moments over a certain spot ; and then silently 
retiring to a neighbouring bush or resting-place, the hunters 
are sure of finding the bees"* nest in that identical spot, whether 
it be in a tree or in the crevice of a rock, or (as is most 
commonly the case) in the earth. Whilst the hunters are busy 

30? 



STRANGE COMPANIONS 

in taking the honey, the bird is seen looking on attentively to 
what is going forward, and waiting for its share of the spoil. 
The bee-hunters never fail to leave a small portion for their 
conductor, but commonly take care not to leave so much as 
would satisfy his hunger. 

" The bird's appetite being whetted by this parsimony, he is 
obliged to commit a second treason, by discovering another 
bees' nest, in hopes of a better salary. It is further observed 
that the nearer the bird approaches the hidden hive, the more 
frequently it repeats its call, and seems the more impatient. I 
have had frequent opportunities of seeing this bird, and have 
been witness to the destruction of several republics of bees by 
means of its treachery. I had, however, but two opportunities 
of shooting it, which I did to the great indignation of my 
Hottentots." 

Though a similar story is told by many African travellers, 
from Bruce to Livingstone, it has several times been dis- 
credited. Mr. Layard, for example, says that the birds will 
not unfrequently lead any one to a leopard or a snake in the 
same way. It is certain, however, that its noisy cry often has 
the effect of guiding men to bees' nests, and that it profits in 
consequence ; so even if it does not instinctively seek an accom- 
plice in its robbery, there is no reason to doubt that, being an 
intelligent and sociably inclined bird as it certainly is, it learns 
by experience the advantage of a working partnership. 



303 



CHAPTER XVIII 
BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

Advantages of town life — Kites in old London — Scavenger birds at work — 
The last of the London Ravens — Citizens of the Crow family — Adapt- 
ability of the Wood-Pigeon — Moorhens and Dabchicks — The ways of the 
half-tame Wild Duck — Small birds— Occasional visitors — The Wood- 
pecker : a case of circumstantial evidence — Perils of town life — Bird- 
v/atching in town— A walk across Kensington Gardens. 

EXACTLY when it was that birds began to take up 
quarters in the neighbourhood of men's dwelhngs we 
shall never know, but there can be little doubt that 
it was quite early in the history of mankind. There is reason 
to believe that soon after houses with eaves were first con- 
structed birds discovered that they afforded convenient pro- 
tection, such as could be found in few places elsew^here, for 
their nests, and confidingly sought hospitality there. The 
Swallow and Martin were no longer obliged to hunt diligently 
for suitable building -sites in caves or about cliffs and pre- 
cipitous rocks ; the Sparrow found nooks where he could make 
his nest and have a roof to protect his family from the weather 
without the necessity of constructing a dome to cover it ; and 
the discovery having once been made, and proved to be of 
advantage to the race, became a habit, and in time led to an 
established instinct for association with man. 

But it is not unlikely that there were still earlier associations, 
less close, perhaps, and of a different origin, while man was 
still a wanderer and had not yet begun to build permanent 
dwellings or to found villages and towns. Wherever there was 
a human encampment there would be the refuse of human food 

304 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

— rejected portions and unconsidered fragments from meals, 
enough to provide a feast for many birds ; and food is no less 
necessary to the well-being of the individual and the species 
than shelter from the weather or from prowling enemies. It is 
probable, therefore, that the first birds which became the neigh- 
bours of man were attracted by the possibility of obtaining a 
fairly regular supply of food with little trouble, and were, 
in fact, scavengers and carrion birds, whose visits, being clearly 
to his advantage, man would not be likely to discourage. 

Without going back to any earlier records, let us now take up 
the story in our own country. 

A foreigner who visited London towards the end of the 
fifteenth century was astonished by the enormous number of 
Kites which he saw flying round London Bridge. At that time 
they were as common here as in Cairo and were even protected 
by law in the City. Things have changed greatly since then, 
and the bird population of London has altered with the human 
inhabitants ; indeed, the one depends very greatly upon the 
other. 

In the fifteenth century London Bridge was bordered on 
either side by dwellings, modern drainage was unknown, and 
such garbage as was not left lying about the streets eventually 
found its way for the most part into the river. There was 
therefore plenty of food for the Kites, of the kind in which 
they delight, and they became the city scavengers just as they 
are in many places abroad at the present day. They were not 
altogether satisfied, however, with refuse only, for Dr. Turner, 
who was Dean of Wells in the middle of the sixteenth century, 
tells us that in his time the Kites were wont to snatch food out 
of children's hands in the city streets. 

In Calcutta the common Pariah Kite {Milvus govindd) is 
still perhaps the most abundant of all birds, and its vast 
numbers and fearlessness impress the stranger from England as 
greatly as the foreigner, in times gone by, was impressed by the 
multitude of Kites around London Bridge. Every large town 
u 305 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

and cantonment in India, every village, has its colony of 
Kites which ply their busy calling from earliest dawn until 
sunset or even later. Every camp has its Kite camp-followers, 
and even single travellers have their Kite attendants, whose one 
aim in life is to gather up the fragments of food which are left 
from meals. 

In the great towns the birds seem to be perfectly well aware 
of the usual time for the rubbish to be put out, for they are 
all on the look out for it and as soon as a basket of refuse is 
placed in the street all the Kites in the neighbourhood dash 
down upon it. Some of them seize the most tempting morsels 
immediately in their first swoop, others are more fastidious and 
spend some time in selecting their scraps from the heap. There 
is many a struggle for the larger fragments, and even when the 
successful bird has got away with his prize he is not left to en- 
joy it in peace. Half a dozen pursuers are close behind him ; 
they swoop around him and torment him until he finds the 
chase too hot and drops his booty, which is pretty sure to be 
seized by another bird before it reaches the ground. In this 
way a fragment may change proprietors half a dozen times, to 
the accompaniment of much unmusical squeaking, before it is 
eventually eaten. 

The birds are remarkably bold and intrusive, and do not hesi- 
tate to snatch garbage from under the very noses of the scavenger 
dogs. But they go further than this, for they will enter the 
houses and steal morsels from dishes as they are carried from 
kitchen to hall, and it is stated on very good authority that 
they will sometimes even seize fragments of food from a man's 
mouth before he can^close his lips ! 

In cities where they regularly make their home. Kites build 
untidy nests of sticks, lined with scraps of rag or other rubbish, 
on houses or any convenient high buildings. In the middle of 
the day they may often be seen flattened against the entabla- 
tures of buildings with their breasts to the wall and wings half 
spread, exactly as you may see them represented on certain 

306 




Kites in London 

In the sixteenth century kites were common in London streets, and used to snatch 
bread from children's hands. Hundreds of them haunted the neighbourhood of 
London Bridge, and fed on the garbage which they found floating on the river. 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

Egyptian monuments. In this position they have scarcely the 
appearance of living birds at all, but look rather like some 
curious form of architectural decoration. 

In many of the Avarmer quarters of the globe the duty of 
destroying the garbage of cities is left almost entirely to birds. 
In the Southern States, for instance, as at Charlestown, Turkey- 
Buzzards, as the Vultures {Catharistes) are usually called, 
have practically had the contract for this work handed over to 
them, and they may safely be relied on not to neglect their 
duties. At Charlestown they frequent the very heart of the 
city, where they sit in rows on the houses adjoining the market 
and on the market buildings, waiting and watching for 
scraps. The moment any refuse is thrown into the street the 
great birds tumble from their perches helter-skelter with much 
fluttering of wings, and a regular tug-of-war ensues. As soon 
as the matter is settled they stand awhile as if in contempla- 
tion, considering whether there is any further business to detain 
them, and then stalk away with as much dignity as they are 
capable of showing. Dignity is not, perhaps, a very marked 
characteristic of city Vultures, for they seem to be even more 
lazy and slovenly in their habits than their country cousins on 
the open plains. 

It must be admitted that, however useful they may be, 
Turkey-Buzzards are by no means attractive birds when on the 
ground, and even in flight they are less noble than most other 
species of Vulture, some of which appear extremely graceful 
when soaring on motionless wings for hours at a time on the 
look-out for prey. 

The table manners of the whole tribe can only be de- 
scribed as repulsive. They eat until they are incapable of 
swallowing another morsel, and still they eat until the food 
drops from their ugly beaks. Then they sit in a dejected 
attitude, too heavy to move, awaiting the happy moment when 
partial digestion of their gluttonous feast will permit them to 
eat again. A Vulture who has done all he can to satisfy his 

307 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

hunger is absolutely incapable of flight, and if he would escape 
an enemy he is obliged to disgorge his meal before he is able 
to raise his overweighted body from the ground. 

It is often supposed that because these unattractive birds are 
ordinarily seen feeding on putrid animal matter they prefer 
their meat in a state of decay. That, however, is not the case ; 
the reason why they sit round a dead animal waiting until 
decomposition sets in is that their beaks are too weak to tear 
the skin until it has become softened by the natural process of 
decay. 

Scavenger birds have long been deprived of their occupation 
in English cities, and are no longer to be found there, 
unless we regard as such the Sparrows which pick up their 
living in the streets, or the Black-headed Gulls which of late 
years have visited London in greater numbers each winter, add- 
ing much to the charm and interest of the bird-life. 

The Storks which, as we mention elsewhere, are regular 
summer visitors to many continental towns, where they are 
afforded encouragement and protection, are not only useful as 
scavengers, but are picturesque and pleasant neighbours whom 
we should gladly welcome. Why they do not come to us it is 
not easy to explain. 

When Kites disappeared from London they were succeeded 
by Ravens, which were quite common until about the middle of 
the eighteenth century and still lingered in the outskirts of the 
city a hundred years ago. A pair of these delightful and in- 
teresting birds bred year by year in a large elm in Hyde Park 
about the beginning of last century, until a keeper robbed 
them of their young, when they forsook the Park for ever. 
One of the nestlings which had been reared was again given 
the freedom of the Park ; he became very sociable and haunted 
the bridge at the top of the Serpentine, occasionally amus- 
ing himself with long excursions. One day a lady passing over 
the bridge dropped a gold bracelet, which the Raven immedi- 
ately seized and carried away ; no doubt he hid it in the hollow 

308 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

of one of the great elm trees, where it will perhaps some day 
be found. This bird was a great favourite with all visitors to 
the Park, but after a while he was stolen and for some time 
nothing was heard of him, until he one day reappeared with 
a cut wing. The indignity seemed seriously to have affected 
his spirits, for he never recovered his former lively habits. He 
became dull, unsociable, and mopish, and was found one morn- 
ing drowned in the Serpentine. The public verdict was that 
he had committed suicide. Such was the fate of the last of the 
Park Ravens. Since then a few of these birds have come as 
temporary visitors to town from time to time, but have never 
stayed there, and the only Ravens which can now be regarded 
as confirmed Cockneys are those which are kept at the Tower. 

At the present day people seldom see a wild Raven in 
England at all, for the few that remain with us make their 
homes on some dreary and rock-bound part of the sea-coast. 
We are so accustomed to think of them as shy and retiring 
birds that it is rather difficult to realise that in certain parts of 
the world they are still as abundant and tame as chickens in a 
farmyard. On Alaska Island, for example, Mr. Burroughs 
found Ravens extremely common both in the town and in its 
surroundings. They were cheery birds and thoroughly sociable 
in their habits, talking and croaking to each other all the day. 
Sometimes a bird would sit apart from the others apparently 
soliloquising and repeating over to himself every sound that he 
knew. 

No bird is more interesting or full of amusing antics 
than a Raven. He looks wiser than any Owl, because more 
alert. He is as full of strange antics as a Parrot, and not a 
whit less talkative after his own fashion. Altogether he is a 
far more desirable scavenger than the unlovable Vulture. There 
is something inexpressibly droll about his every movement, 
his cunning sidelong hops and curious prancing walk. He 
looks at you in such a knowing fashion with his head turned on 
one side, and his hoarse croak is capable of expressing such 

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BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

varied emotions. One would gladly receive him back as a 
fellow-citizen. But though many new birds have come to 
town during the last twenty years, there is, I fear, no possi- 
bility of the return of the Raven. 

There are, however, two or three birds belonging to the same 
family which make their homes in London. In some of the 
large parks there are always a few Carrion-Crows, which may be 
seen wandering about in couples, looking very sedate and 
respectable in their glossy black plumage. But respectability 
is not a characteristic of the Carrion-Crow. You will never see 
any other bird associating with him ; they all regard him with 
suspicion and give him a wide berth, and with very good reason, 
for they are quite well aware that he misses no opportunity 
of robbing them of their eggs, or young, or food, or anything 
else which takes his fancy. Carrion-Crows are on this account 
not greatly encouraged by park keepers, for they undoubtedly 
take toll of many Ducks' eggs and Ducklings during the season. 
But they are so picturesque, and so canny in their ways, that I 
think we should be pleased to entertain them even on these terms. 

Civilisation, however, softens even the manners of the 
Carrion-Crow to a certain extent, for though he is by principle 
a robber and carnivorous by inclination, there is something of 
the philosopher in his composition, and he is quite disposed 
to take things as he finds them, even in the less offensive 
meaning of the phrase. So the Cockney Crow, like all other 
Cockney birds, is very largely a bread-eater — so mucii so, 
indeed, that some years ago at Clissold Park a Crow was seen 
flying laboriously along with the upper part of a cottage loaf 
impaled on his bill. He had to alight with his enormous load 
from time to time in order to rest, but he eventually landed 
with it on his nest, where he was boisterously received by his 
hungry family. 

Another bird which is not less amusing and interesting, and 
which visits London year by year, is the Magpie. Every spring 
three or four of these birds appear in our parks and begin very 

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BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

busily to collect material for nests. Last year a pair of 
Magpies built three nests in succession (as these birds often do) 
in Green Park, but nothing came of all this show of setting up 
housekeeping. The birds never seem to go any further with it, 
and I do not know any instance of their bringing up a brood 
in London for fifty years past. They are not regarded with more 
favour by keepers than are the Carrion-Crows, for they are 
equally unprincipled and are particularly fond of Pigeons' eggs. 
They are said, too, to tease the water-fowl, and certainly they 
are mischievous enough for anything. 

One of the most familiar and certainly the most picturesque 
of the birds in many provincial towns is the Jackdaw, whose 
interesting antics and high-pitched voice enliven many a church 
tower or cathedral close. It is strange that very few Daws 
take up their quarters in London. Of London's 1600 churches 
those inhabited by Daws can be counted on the fingers of one 
hand. Their place is more than occupied by the flocks of 
Pigeons which crowd every building, but though these are 
pretty enough in their way, they are not interesting birds like 
the Daws. A few of the latter birds frequent the old elms in 
Kensington Gardens, but they are a sedate and melancholy 
company, and seldom indulge in the mad frolics of their kind. 
Now and then they seem to be aroused from their lethargy 
when a flight of Rooks passes over the gardens, for the birds 
have a curious liking for one another's society and the Daws 
are always eager to give the Rooks an escort of honour over the 
town. 

As to the Rooks, they are not uncommonly seen about town 
from time to time. Many of them roost in winter in the out- 
lying districts and visit the central parks during the day in 
search of food, the Daws being on such occasions always eager 
to receive them. There are a few small movable colonies of 
Rooks in several parts of London, and Gray's Inn has its 
rookery. There used also to be one in Temple Gardens, which 
was founded in Queen Anne's time by a famous lawyer of that 

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BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

period in a very curious manner. There was a rookery on his 
estate at Epsom, and as he was very eager to see the birds 
established in the Temple, he hit on the brilliant plan of 
attempting to plant a cutting, so to speak, of his Epsom 
rookery there. A bough bearing a nest containing two young 
birds was removed from a tree and taken in an open waggon to 
the Temple Gardens, the old birds following anxiously in the 
wake, no doubt in great distress and wondering what was being 
done to their little ones. On arriving at the Gardens, the 
bough, together with the nest and young Rooks, was fixed in 
one of the trees, and there the old birds fed their progeny and 
brought them up, eventually remaining with them to found 
a new colony. The following year this was reinforced by sub- 
stituting Rooks' eggs for those of a Magpie which had built its 
nest in the Gardens, and the eggs were safely hatched and reared. 

Public interest in birds has very greatly increased in recent 
years, and they are everywhere treated with more kindness and 
consideration than was formerly the case. The birds seem to be 
quite well aware of this, if one may judge from the way in 
which species which were formerly never seen in great cities are 
now regular visitors to or constant inhabitants of the town. 

At the present time Wood-Pigeons, which are amongst the 
shyest of birds in their usual haunts in the country, are so 
common in London that their presence excites no remark. 
Twenty years ago, however, they were still few in number; 
and I well remember my delight when a pair of them built 
in a tree quite close to my windows overlooking Lincoln's Inn, 
in the spring of 1895. As the nest was a few feet below the 
window I was able to watch every movement of the birds and 
to see them successfully rear their young amidst the roar of 
traffic passing to and fro along the Strand. What was still 
more unusual was that in the same year a pair of Turtle-Doves 
attempted to build in the same tree, but these very rare visitors 
unfortunately did not remain many days, and I am not aware 
that any have been known to nest in London since that time. 

312 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

At present Wood-Pigeons are to be seen in many parts of the 
tovm, and have even taken to nesting on houses and other 
buildings, just like the semi-domestic Pigeons which preceded 
them and which are now their companions. Most of them, 
however, still nest in trees in the parks and squares. They seem 
quite to have lost their shyness, and may even be seen feed- 
ing in the streets with the other Pigeons, from which they may 
be distinguished by the broken collar of white about the neck. 

Moorhens were formerly as rare as Wood- Pigeons, but are 
now quite widely distributed, wherever there is a pond with a 
few rushes. At first a few stragglers came to town as summer 
visitors and went away again before winter, but at the present 
time they stay all the year round where they can find even a 
moderate amount of shelter and seclusion. Though very timid 
in their wild state, these birds soon get used to men and become 
almost semi-domesticated, though they always remain wary 
in their attitude towards any unaccustomed object. They 
are very graceful both on the water and on land, and 
invariably make their appearance on the latter after a shower to 
look for food amongst the grass, in company with Blackbirds, 
Starlings, and Thrushes, walking about slowly and sedately with 
the short tail jerking up and down in a comical manner at 
every few steps. 

Far more timid are the little Dabchicks, which first appeared 
in one of the parks about a quarter of a century ago, and since 
then have become more numerous. I believe, however, that 
these birds never stay all the year round, though in summer they 
often build their raft-like nest of weeds amongst the reeds about 
the margin of the ornamental waters. Sometimes the nest 
breaks from its moorings and floats into the open, greatly to 
the distress of its owners. 

The commonest of the water-birds are of course the Ducks. 
The Ducks in Hyde Park are descended from the true Wild 
Ducks which were introduced years ago, and their descent is 
still to be traced in their habits. By day, as every visitor to 

313 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

the parks knows, they are perfectly tame and will swim close 
beside the margin of the water eagerly snapping up the frag- 
ments of bread and other food thrown to them by children. 
But if you visit them at twilight you find that they are far more 
difficult to approach. They become wary at nightfall, and on 
autumn nights fly about the park and gardens in flocks, 
alighting from time to time to feed on the grass, just as they 
would do in their wild state. Even by day they often make 
short flights, wandering from the Serpentine to the Round Pond 
and back again. 

Many of them have found that the safest place to make their 
nests is in holes in the large elms. How the young Ducklings 
ever reach the ground from these nests, some of which are at a 
great height, has puzzled many people. As a matter of fact, 
as soon as they are old enough to be moved — that is to say, 
very shortly after being hatched — their mother takes them 
in her bill and drops them one by one to the ground. This 
rough treatment never seems to do them any harm, for they 
And their way to the water and are soon discovered swimming 
about quite happily. One nest was built, some years ago, in a 
very deep hollow of a tree which had been broken off at the top, 
yet the Duck somehow contrived to get her offspring out of the 
chimney-like shaft, though how she managed it is more than 
we can tell, since there was certainly not enough room for her 
to spread her wings. Some have nested in Holland Park, 
and have been known to try to lead their chicks to the water 
through the streets, much to the amusement of the passers-by. 

Small birds, of course, there always are in plenty, in nearly 
all towns. Sparrows, it need hardly be said, are the most 
numerous of them all, and after them come the Starlings. 
Blackbirds and Thrushes seem to be almost as plentiful, 
wherever there is a fairly large open space with healthy trees, 
as they are in the country, and Tits of various kinds constantly 
frequent many gardens. An excellent way to encourage and 
attract Tits is to hang a bone, a piece of suet, or the half of 

314 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

a cocoanut which has been sawn in two, at the end of a string ; 
before very long, especially in winter, one or two of these 
attractive little visitors are pretty sure to be seen climbing over 
it and enjoying the hospitality which is offered to them. 

It would be tedious to give an account of all the birds which 
are to be found from time to time even in London and other large 
towns in England, but a few of the more occasional visitors may 
be just mentioned. Amongst these we meet with some surprises. 
Twelve or thirteen years ago, a gentleman who had a large old 
garden adjoining his house at Wandsworth saw in it at different 
times several Hawks, Pheasants, and even a Heron. Since that 
time Herons have acquired the habit of flying down the river at 
dusk from Richmond Park to their fishing-grounds, sometimes 
venturing as far as Chelsea ; and although, as is well known, they 
are amongst the most retiring of our British birds, they have 
so far overcome their natural shyness as to fish close to the 
houses, and only a few yards from the road. 

Two years ago, on several occasions in the very early morning, 
I heard in Kensington Gardens what appeared to me to be the 
tapping of a Woodpecker. I had very little doubt as to the 
cause of the sound, which was so characteristic of that bird as 
to be practically unmistakable, but since Woodpeckers are 
certainly not counted among our town dwellers, or even occa- 
sional visitors, I was very anxious to get sight of the bird. In 
this, however, I was not successful. Few birds can be more 
elusive than a Woodpecker, which will dodge round the trunk 
or limb of a tree in the most agile manner, always contriving to 
keep just out of sight. Greatly to my regret, therefore, I came 
to the conclusion that the matter must remain for ever unde- 
cided, and though I felt pretty sure that it really was a Wood- 
pecker that I had heard hammering on the tree, it was impos- 
sible to prove it. 

Early last spring, however, when it had been discovered that 
many of the old elms were badly decayed and were in a 
dangerous condition, a great number of the trees were 

315 



BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

shortened and lopped, the portions which were most ex- 
tensively decayed being removed. Passing through the 
gardens one day, just after this had been done, I was ex- 
amining a large pile of the wood which had been cut down, 
and in one section of a thick, hollow limb I discovered a round 
hole almost as cleanly cut as if it had been made with a drill — 
exactly such a hole as is bored by a Woodpecker. That it had 
not been made with a drill was certain, for it was not exactly 
round, but only nearly so. The lower edge of it was slightly 
worn, but no natural rounding of the edges of the bark had 
taken place, so that the hole could not have been pierced at any 
very distant date, though it might quite well have been made 
in the previous year. Unfortunately it was only a few inches 
from the cut end of the branch, and the bottom of the hollow 
cavity had been removed; it was impossible, therefore, to 
ascertain whether there were any traces of a nest, though it was 
evident that the hole had been frequented by birds. But the 
discovery of the neat round opening left me even more firmly 
convinced than before that in the previous year Woodpeckers 
certainly had paid a visit to Kensington Gardens, though they 
might not actually have stayed there to rear a brood of 
youngsters. 

The life of the smaller town birds, even in parks, is full of 
peril, otherwise no doubt they would be far more numerous. 
Their great enemies are cats, which nightly make hunting 
excursions from the houses round about and pounce upon the 
birds as they are at roost among the bushes. Unfortunately 
nothing can be done to prevent this evil, for it is impossible to 
keep the cats away from the open spaces. The entrance into a 
city, too, is fraught with danger. Arriving by night, as many 
birds do, attracted by the glow of countless lights, they often 
come into collision with the network of overhead wires which 
is spread all over the town, and are either killed at once or so 
badly injured that they fall easy victims to prowling cats. 

The town-dweller who is a lover of birds has one advantage 
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BIRDS ABOUT TOWN 

over the countryman. In parks where they are carefully pro- 
tected from interference by men or boys, and where the sound 
of a gun is never heard, where too they become thoroughly 
accustomed to the sight of people passing to and fro, birds 
which in the country are quite shy and retiring in character 
become far bolder and more familiar. They go about their 
business without paying much attention to anybody, and it is 
therefore possible to watch them at closer quarters than in the 
country, and to observe their movements quite easily without 
the aid of field-glasses. Something of interest is to be seen in 
almost any park or open space. A walk across Kensington 
Gardens, for example, may be full of incident. As you enter 
the gate you probably hear a Thrush singing from one of the 
highest twigs of an evergreen oak. Close by on the grass his 
mate is moving along with a series of vigorous hops, stopping 
every minute to listen with head on one side, running on again, 
now in a slightly different direction, listening once more 
for a moment, and then suddenly pouncing upon the worm 
for which she has been searching. Not far off a Blackbird is 
singing, and as one approaches the pond a number of Ducks, 
clamouring loudly, fly off eastward towards the Park, occasion- 
ally falling more or less into the > -shaped formation which their 
wild ancestors used to assume when on the wing. A few Gulls 
are still circling round on light, easy pinions over the water, 
and in the shallow margin two or three Sparrows are almost 
certainly taking a leisurely bath. A pair of sturdy Wood- 
Pigeons fly in a business-like way from the upper branches of 
one tall tree to another, where Daws and Starlings may be 
their neighbours ; and in a high elm, silhouetted against the sky, 
a Carrion- Crow keeps solemn watch beside his nest and mate. 
Other birds there are, visible to those who have learnt to 
know them and their ways, but those I have mentioned may 
be seen in the course of a ten-minutes' walk from gate to gate 
in this happy hunting-ground for the City bird-lover. 



317 



CHAPTER XIX 
FISHING 

Fishing from a stand— Kingfisher and Heron— How the fish are swallowed 
— Fishing Crows — A boisterous fishing-party : the American Wood-Ibis— 
Bills and claws of fishing birds — Birds-of-Prey as fishers — A romantic 
family history — Fishing in mid-air— The diving birds as fishers— The 
Darter's spring-harpoon — ' Master of the Royal Cormorants ' — Fishing 
with Cormorants — A fishing-fleet of Pelicans —The capacity of a Pehcan's 
pouch— The Skimmer: ploughing the waves— Opening shell-fish— The 
follow-my-leader fishing of Gannets. 

THERE is almost as much variety in the methods em- 
ployed by birds in their fishing as in those adopted by 
fishermen, and if we consider for a moment how diverse 
in form and structure are the species which follow " the gentle 
art," how different the implements with which nature has pro- 
vided them, and how varied the conditions under which they 
carry on this pinrsuit, we shall see that this must be so. It 
is obvious that the long-legged, stately Heron would be 
quite at sea, in more senses than one, if he went fishing with 
the sturdy, short-limbed Penguin, and that a Fishing Owl 
would prove a very unsatisfactory companion for an Albatross 
or a Frigate-bird. We have to consider, therefore, the different 
ways in which birds whose diet consists more or less of fish 
earn their living. 

It happens that the most brilliant of our native birds, and 
the most picturesque, are both to be numbered amongst the 
fishers which haunt our streams and ponds. No other British 
bird can compare in brightness of plumage with the little 
Kingfisher {Alcedo ispida\ with its gleaming blue-green back 
and rich chestnut breast; while the conspicuous form of the 

318 



FISHING 

Heron {Ardea c'nierea), its commanding presence and long 
pendent plumes, have been made familiar by artists all over 
the world. It would be difficult to imagine any birds more 
exactly fitted than these to give the final touch of beauty to 
the landscape they adorn. The clear, rippling stream, softly 
shadowed at intervals by leafy boughs and bordered by the 
rich green herbage upon its banks, relieved here and there by 
the contrasting colour of the bare earth where the bank rises 
sharply in a steep escarpment, forms a perfect setting for the 
gorgeous little bird that sits, watchful and patient, upon an 
overhanging bough or darts swiftly over the stream, flashing 
and gleaming with blue reflections as it crosses the patches of 
sunlight ; the level, reedy margin of a great pool or shallow 
estuary accentuates the decorative form of the picturesque 
Heron, and harmonises perfectly with its fine grey back, its 
black-streaked throat, and snowy breast, as well as with its 
leisurely movements and air of calm repose. 

Both Heron and Kingfisher generally play a waiting game 
when fishing, and both use the bill for capturing their prey. It 
is sometimes stated that the Kingfisher seizes fish with its feet; it 
is difficult to understand how such a belief arose, for these 
members are remarkably feeble and quite incapable of being put 
to such a use. Its ordinary method of fishing is to sit — some- 
times for hours together — on a projecting twig or rock, watch- 
ing the stream with a sharp eye to the movement of any small 
fish or aquatic insect. Occasionally it moves its head back and 
forward or shakes its wings and suns itself. Should an unfor- 
tunate fish come in sight, the lone fisher is at once thoroughly 
alert, craning its neck and watching it narrowly until, choosing 
a favourable instant, it plunges head first almost perpendicu- 
larly into the water and emerges a moment later holding in its 
long bill a gleaming fish which vainly x struggles to escape. 
Sometimes the bird remains under water for several seconds in 
pursuit of its prey; and occasionally it fails altogether to 
secure it, but that is rare. 

319 



FISHING 

Having caught its fish, the Kingfisher returns to its perch 
and proceeds to reduce it to a helpless condition before swallow- 
ing it. I have often watched this process, and on every occasion 
it has been performed in the same manner. Holding the fish 
firmly in its beak, crosswise, the bird gives its captive two or 
three quick bites, jerking it sideways a little after each one so 
as to injure it in a different place every time. Then, with a 
vigorous movement of the neck, it beats the fish's head against 
the rock or bough on which it is perched and so stuns it ; there 
is more biting, and again two or three sharp blows ; and with 
a dexterous jerk the fish is brought lengthwise into the 
beak and swallowed. It is an almost invariable rule, not only 
with the Kingfisher but with all fish-eating birds, to swallow 
their prey head foremost ; if the other way were tried it might 
have uncomfortable results, because the fins, which point back- 
wards towards the tail, would often stick in the bird's gullet. 
A gluttonous Cormorant has in its haste occasionally been 
known to make a mistake and to attempt to swallow its prey 
the wrong way round ; but even these birds, which can bolt 
almost anything, have sometimes to recognise their error and 
start afresh. 

The Kingfisher usually has two or three favourite perches, 
which may be a considerable distance apart, along its own par- 
ticular range of stream, but it does not always fish from a 
stand in the way already described. Sometimes it hovers like 
a Kestrel over the water, first in one spot and then in another, 
moving from place to place in short, rapid flights until it 
detects a victim and makes its plunge. This method is most 
often resorted to where fish are plentiful and perches few. 

Though these charming birds are to be found in most 
districts, they are nowhere very numerous. This may be 
accounted for in two ways. In the first place, their great 
beauty makes them irresistibly tempting objects to the kind of 
'sportsman' who can never look at a beautiful bird of any 
sort without wanting to kill it ; and they are also shot and 

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FISHING 

netted in gi'eat numbers on account of the utility of their 
feathers in making artificial flies for fishing. Severe weather 
is, however, the birds' greatest enemy. During a hard frost, 
when the streams and ponds are frozen over, they resort for 
food to the seashore, but many individuals perish on the way 
before they can reach the tidal waters. 

Since these birds have been protected by the various public 
bodies concerned, they have become far more numerous than 
they w^ere formerly along the Thames, and Mr. Cornish, who 
wrote so delightfully of that river, describes how he one day 
saw a number of them at play. "It was a brilliant, warm, 
sunny morning, such as sometimes comes in early winter, and I 
wTut down before breakfast to Clifton Bridge. There the 
shrill cry of the Kingfishers was heard on all sides, and I 
counted seven, chasing each other over the water, darting in 
swift flight round and round the pool, and perching on the 
cam-shedding in a row to rest. Presently two flew up and 
hovered together, like Kestrels, over the stream. One suddenly 
plunged, came up with a fish, and flying to the other, which 
was still hovering, put the fish into its beak. After this pretty 
gift and acceptance both flew to the willows, where, let us hope, 
they shared their breakfast." 

Some Kingfishers live most entirely in forests and feed on 
insects, but they all have the habit of perching motionless on 
the look-out for prey, like a cat watching for a mouse, and 
pouncing upon it when it appears. One species {Pelargopsis 
kucocephala), which is common on the rivers and tideways of 
North Borneo, perches at the top of a high tree and watches 
for fishes swimming on the surface of the sea, sometimes at a 
considerable distance from the shore. 

We may remark in passing that some members of the Crow 
family turn their attention to fishing, and give a very credit- 
able performance. I have never seen English Crows catching 
fish, but from the bridge over the Serpentine in Hyde Park a 
friend of mine recently saw one, after two unsuccessful attempts, 

X ^21 



FISHING 

take from the water a dead fish about half a foot in length ; 
and I have on more than one occasion seen them skilfully 
retrieve floating pieces of bread or other scraps of food which 
had been thrown overboard from ships and barges. The 
American Crow (Corvus americanus), however, has frequently 
been observed fishing at low tide in much the same way as a 
Kingfisher, watching for fish and diving after them from a pier. 
Instead of plunging almost straight down as a Kingfisher does, 
the Crow strikes the water at a sharp angle, like a Swallow, and 
skims up again. 

The Heron does not need either bough or post to stand on 
when he goes fishing ; his own long legs give him a sufficiently 
commanding position, and his large feet prevent him from 
sinking in the mud. In a well-stocked stream he usually does 
his fishing from a single stand, waiting motionless with his 
long shanks in the shallows and his neck half drawn back in 
readiness until chance brings a fish within reach of his bill. 
His head, then shoots down with the swiftness of a bolt released 
from a crossbow, and comes up again immediately with the fish 
held a hopeless prisoner in the sharp bill. If fish are not 
plentiful, he wades about in search of them ; and sometimes, 
when out of his depth, he swims. 

His method of dealing with the wriggling prey differs from 
that of his small rival, the Kingfisher ; he does not go through 
the formality of beating and biting it until its struggles cease, 
but with a few deft jerks of his head, in a quiet, business-like 
way, he brings it into a favourable position, and with a final 
snap it disappears and is swallowed, the way being made easy 
for it by stretching out the head and neck in one straight line. 
Where they are plentiful, eels form a large part of a Heron*'s 
diet. Sterland, in his Birds of Sherwood Forest^ mentions 
a strange accident which befell one of these birds while eel-fish- 
ing. It was found dead on the edge of a fishpond, and the way 
in which it had lost its life was remarkable. It had speared 
a large eel through the body with its sharp bill without 

322 



FISHING 

absolutely killing it, and in its death struggles the eel had 
wreathed itself round its captor's neck and had at the same time 
coiled round some aquatic^lants on the bank. The consequence 
was that the fish held its enemy prisoner, and both were found 
dead together. 

In the old days when falconry flourished as a sport in this 
country, Herons were protected both by law and custom on 
account of the fine flights they afforded. Nowadays most of 
the great heronries have been broken up and the scattered birds 
are much persecuted. One even hears from time to time of 
rewards being offered for their destruction by the Conservators 
of a river on account of the immense damage they are said to do 
to the fishing, but it is very doubtful whether they deserve 
quite such a bad character as is given to them, because although 
they have a partiality for fishes, the eels and flounders which 
form the bulk of what they eat in the estuaries cannot be a very 
serious loss, and a large part of their diet consists of frogs with 
an occasional small mammal or young bird. Even rats are not 
despised — at all events, a Heron has often been seen catching 
and killing them by beating them violently on the ground, and 
afterwards carrying them away, so it seems quite likely that he 
eats them too. 

The methods of the American Wood-Ibis {Tantalus loculator) 
are very different from those of the quiet Heron. These birds 
form immense fishing-parties of hundreds, or even thousands, of 
individuals. Seeking in company the shallow margin of a muddy 
lake abounding in fish, they dance and tramp about and stir up 
the mud from the bottom with their feet until the water 
becomes quite dark and thick. This causes the fishes to rise to 
the surface, where they are struck by the beaks of the Ibises 
and killed. In the course of a quarter of an hour or 
so the surface of the water is covered with hundreds of dead 
fishes, frogs and other animals, even young alligators sharing 
the general fate. The birds then feast greedily upon them, the 
clacking of numerous bills being audible quite a long way 

323 



FISHING 

ofF, until at last they can eat no more, when they march off to 
the nearest bank and stand in long rows, all facing one way, 
sunning themselves. 

We have seen that Kingfishers, Herons, and Ibises all catch 
fish with their bill, seizing, striking, or spearing their prey with 
a quick, powerful movement of the head. In such birds the bill 
is peculiarly adapted to its use : the Heron's bill, for example, 
is long and sharp, like the head of a lance ; and in some cases 
the margins are more or less roughened, or serrated as we say, 
like the edge of a saw, for the better holding of the prey. 

Many birds, however, instead of striking the fish with 
their bill, seize it with their feet, and in such cases it is the foot 
that is specially constructed for holding the slippery captive, for 
not only are the claws sharp and curved like so many little 
hooks, which can be driven into the fish, but the sole of the foot 
has a rough surface which enables the bird to hold its prey still 
more securely. 

This kind of foot is possessed by the Fishing Owls {Ketupa) 
of India and Ceylon and the countries of Eastern Asia. One 
would have imagined fishing to be a most uncongenial occupa- 
tion for an Owl, but these birds pursue their calling with con- 
siderable success, perching beside the margins of ponds and 
rivers and pouncing upon any fish or crab that comes within 
reach. Like most of the family, the Fishing Owls remain con- 
cealed by day and only start out on their excursions in search 
of food at nightfall. There is, however, another Owl which 
sometimes goes angling, and which, being a native of the far 
north, where in summer there is no night, appears to be 
able to hunt equally well by night or by day. This is the 
Snowy Owl {Nyctea nivea), one of the boldest of the family. 
It is not a regular fisher, for its diet usually consists of wild- 
fowl of various kinds and small mammals, but Audubon had 
the good fortune to see some of these birds angling while 
he was out shooting Wild Ducks near Louisville ; for during 
the winter the birds leave the snowy regions of the far 

324 



FISHING 

north and migrate to warmer latitudes. They were watching 
for their prev beside the ' pots ' at the falls of the River Ohio, 
and were lying on the rocks with the body placed lengthwise 
close to the margin of the pot-hole and the head turned 
towards the water. So still were they that they looked as if 
they were sound asleep, but they were really very wide awake 
indeed, for as soon as a fish rose to the surface within reach, a 
foot was instantly thrust out with the quickness of lightning, 
and the unhappy fish was seized and pulled out of the water. 
The wily bird then carried its prize a few yards from the 
margin of the pool and devoured it, afterwards returning to 
practise the same clever trick on other victims. Sometimes the 
fish was too large to be easily pulled out with one foot, and 
had to be gaffed, so to speak, with the other foot before it 
could be landed. 

The Osprey's fishing is described in another chapter, and 
there are few more delightful spectacles for a lover of birds. 
The fine flight, the careful poise with upright body and quickly 
beating wings, the tremendous plunge, like a plummet, into the 
water, the sudden reappearance, a moment later, from the bosom 
of the lonely lake, amidst a shower of sparkling drops shaken 
from the plumage, with a silvery fish gleaming and struggling in 
the grasp of the strong claws — surely that is a romantic sight ! 
Unhappily, though the Osprey is one of the most cosmopolitan 
of birds and is found in nearly all parts of the world, it is a 
sight that can now rarely be witnessed in these islands, where 
persecution has almost extirpated the bird except as a chance 
visitant. 

There are, however, a very few eyries, of almost immemorial 
date, where the Ospreys are afforded protection by great land- 
owners, and continue their line year by year, though not with- 
out vicissitudes. Such an eyrie is that on the summit of the 
small, square turret of the islet castle of Loch-an-Eilan, beside 
the Cairngorm Mountains. The record of this goes back to 
1824, but it may have been in existence long before then. The 

325 



FISHING 

tenancy was probably continuous each year until 1872, when 
the male bird was unfortunately shot, and though the female 
returned in the first week of April of the two following years 
and waited in the nest for her old mate, she at last disappeared, 
and for several years the eyrie was deserted. But in 1878 a 
pair of Ospreys once more appeared on the loch and repaired 
the turret nest, which was regularly occupied every season 
during the next decade. In the April of 1888 a pair arrived 
as usual, but the female was a young bird and a stranger. Not 
many days later a second female appeared, and then began a 
battle royal between the rivals which was waged for two 
whole days from dawn till dusk, almost without intermission. 
On the third day the young usurper suddenly rose from her 
nest and pouncing upon her rival struck her a blow which 
hurled her into the lake, where she was ruthlessly pursued and 
left floating dead. But the house did not prosper : no eggs 
were laid, and in a few days the birds flew away and never 
returned together. Each year afterwards the male Osprey 
made a pilgrimage to his old home and remained there for a few 
days, calling for his mate to return to him ; but it was not 
until the spring of the seventh year that he found a partner to 
share with him the ancient eyrie. 

To resume our subject of fishing. Where flying-fish are abun- 
dant one might expect the Osprey to secure its prey in mid-air, 
like other Birds-of-Prey, but it always waits until they have 
resumed their swimming and follows them into the water. 
So far as I am aware, the Frigate-bird is the only species which 
ever carries on its fishing in mid-air, waiting until the flying-fish 
are startled from their native element by some of the larger 
species of fish which prey upon them, such as albicores and 
bonitos, and seizing them before they can regain the water. We 
all know Mr. Kipling's verses — 

On the road to Mandalay, 

Where the flying-fishes play ; 

but, what with the bonitos below and the Frigate-birds above, 

326 



> 







I 6 
O o 



FISHING 

the fishes have somewhat peculiar ideas of play if they alto- 
gether enjoy the sport. 

Anybody who has observed the speed with which the flying- 
fish skims through the air during its short flight will 
appreciate the astonishing swiftness and adroitness of the bird 
which can snap it up — if that is always the correct phrase. I 
am not quite sure whether it is, because the Frigate-bird is pro- 
vided not only with a long bill with a dangerous-looking hook 
at the end, but with strong, curved claws, one of which is toothed, 
and which certainly look exactly as though they were intended 
for seizing a slippery fish. The Heron, it will be remembered, 
has a similar toothed claw ; but it has been suggested that it 
may be used as a sort of comb to help in putting the feathers 
in order. However that may be, the Frigate-bird does seize its 
fish on the wing, and when it cannot do that it has to resort to 
piracy, for it is not known either to dive or swim after its 
prey. 

Having caught its fish, the Osprey turns it head foremost if 
it is not already held in that position, squeezes it to put an end 
to its struggles, and dashes away to its young or to a favourite 
dining-spot. Sometimes a very large fish is seized, and there are 
instances on record where this has proved fatal to the bird, 
which, being unable either to raise its prey from the water or 
to extricate its hooked claws, has been drowned. 

Several other Birds-of-Prey go fishing, from the large Grey- 
headed Fishing Eagle (Polioaetus icthya'etus) to the little 
Brahminy Kite (Haliastur Indus), which abounds in Calcutta 
and other parts, and may be seen perching on the rigging of 
craft at anchor and darting down to pick small fish or refuse 
from the surface of the water. 

In the chapter on Swimming and Diving it has been men- 
tioned that the excursions under water of the birds which 
practise these arts are made in quest of food. Sometimes they 
dive to escape an enemy, or merely in high-spirited play, like 
the Penguins ; but fishing is the usual object, and if a fish has 

3^7 



FISHING 

little chance of escape even from the birds which can only plunge 
beneath the surface for a few moments, as we have seen to be 
the case, it is clear that it has still less chance against 
an enemy almost as thoroughly at home in the water as 
itself. As a matter of fact, a Darter {Plotus) or a Cormorant 
is a match for almost any fish that swims. The Darter is par- 
ticularly well equipped for its pursuit, because its sharp spike of 
a beak can be thrust forward with almost incredible swiftness, on 
account of the structure and arrangement of the bones and 
muscles of the upper portion of the neck, which produce the effect 
of a spring. Bitterns have a similar spring apparatus, and so, in a 
less degree, have Cormorants, Gannets, and Pelicans. A Darter 
will devour at a single meal forty or more fishes three or four 
inches long. 

Cormorants have several methods of going about their fishing. 
One way is to pounce from a convenient perch, like a King- 
fisher ; at other times they swim swiftly on the top of the water 
with the head submerged ; but usually they swim under water. 

Cormorants are particularly interesting, because in China 
they are frequently trained and kept for fishing, just as Hawks 
are trained for flying at quarry, and the sport is not altogether 
unknown in this country. In the time of James I. there was 
a Master of the Royal Cormorants, and the King had a 
regular establishment for his Cormorants on the river at 
Westminster. 

In one of the official documents of the time John Wood, 
who was the first to hold the office of Master, is described as 
Keeper of His Majesty's Cormorants, Ospreys, and Otters, so it 
is evident that fishing with Ospreys was also tried ; but as little 
is anywhere said of it we may assume that the sport with these 
birds, as with the otters, proved a failure. 

In his Embassy to China, Sir George Staunton relates that 
during the journey to Hau-choo-foo, "the Embassy had not 
proceeded far on the southern branch of the canal when they 
ari'ived in the vicinity of the place where the . . . famed 

328 



FISHING 

fishing-bird of China is bred, and instructed in the art and 
practice of supplying his owner with fish in great abundance. 
On a large lake . . . are thousands of small boats and rafts 
built entirely for this species of fishery. On each boat or raft 
are ten or a dozen birds, which, at a signal from the owner, 
plunge into the water ; and it is astonishing to see the enormous 
size of fish with which they return. . . . They appeared to be 
so well trained, that it did not require either ring or cord about 
their throats to prevent them from swallowing any portion of 
their prey, except what the master was pleased to return to 
them for encouragement and food. The boat used by these 
fishermen is of a remarkably light make, and is often carried to 
the lake . . . together with the fishing-birds, by the men who 
are there to be supported by it." 

In England, and I believe in China too, it was certainly 
usual to place a ring or a leather thong round the lower part of 
the bird's neck to make the swallowing of its prey impossible. 
At first sight this appears to be a rather cruel proceeding, but 
it is not really so, because Cormorants"* gullets are very capacious 
and elastic — so much so that the Greenlanders use them, tied at 
the ends and distended with air, to float their fishing-nets. 
Even with the strap on, the bird can find room for a two-pound 
fish, and in its wild state it has been known to take them still 
larger. One bird which was shot was found to have swallowed 
a four-pound grilse — or the greater portion of it, for the fish 
had proved to be rather longer than the accommodation at its 
disposal, and part of it was still outside the bill. 

There have been several attempts to revive the sport of 
fishing with Cormorants in this country, and a few birds are 
still kept for, the purpose. In the old days it was the practice 
to hood the birds like Falcons while carrying them to the 
river. On arriving at the bank the hoods are removed, the 
strap adjusted about the neck, and the birds thrown into the 
water. Diving with wonderful swiftness, descending in a spiral 
direction (as Falcons mount) if the water is deep, they pursue 

329 



FISHING 



the fish and, having caught one, rise with it to the surface 
where they swallow it, afterwards diving again in quest 
others. In this manner each bird may stow five or six fishes 
its gullet. The keepers then call them to the fist, to which 
they readily return ; little by little and one at a time they dis- 
gorge their fish, in perfect condition except for the slight bruise 
where they have been nipped by the bill. When all have been 
given up each bird is rewarded with one or two fislies, which it 
catches dexterously in its mouth. 

Perch and other fish with a similar back-fin cannot be dis- 
gorged, and the bird must be allowed to swallow them or its 
pouch may be lacerated. Eels are a favourite form of prey, 
but as they have the annoying habit of wriggling either down 
or up after being swallowed, they spoil the fishing. 

The fish seem to know their green-eyed foes by instinct, and 
if there is a muddy bottom to the stream they generally try 
to bury themselves. Sometimes they jump right out of the 
water in their efforts to escape pursuit ; but they are seldom 
successful, for a Cormorant can catch even grayling, which are 
swifter than trout, by fair coursing in open water. 

The fish is usually caught by the middle, but sometimes the 
deadly hooked bill snaps a fraction of a second too soon or too 
late, and closes on nothing but a fin or the tip of the tail ; in 
that case the prey may get away again, but only for a moment, 
for the Cormorant is sure to overtake it with a dive of light- 
ning swiftness. 

The birds are very cunning and peer into every rat-hole 
and under every shelving bank. It is seldom indeed that a 
fish escapes, and those that are so fortunate usually do so by 
suddenly doubling. The birds are extremely agile, however, 
and Mr. Salvin once saw his trained Cormorant ' Isaac Walton,' 
an exceptionally skilful fisher, exhaust a large trout by 
spinning round and round it at great speed with its neck 
and tail turned inwards, the fish meanwhile making vain efforts 
to escape from the deadly circle. People who have had experi- 

330 



,ce, I 




Fishing with Cormorants 

Cormorants are frequently trained for fishing in China, and the sport is not 
altogether unknown in England. 'J he birds are very agile under water and can 
catch even the swift gra\ling. A ring or strap Is placed round the neck to prevent 
them from swallowing the fish. 



FISHING 

ence of fishing with Cormorants have noticed that most fish 
appear to become exhausted very quickly when pursued, seldom 
swimming more than fifteen .or twenty yards. 

When a large fish has been captured the bird works it round 
with its beak until the head is in the right direction and then 
gulps it down ; but small fish are tossed in the air and caught 
head foremost, with all the skill of a clever juggler. Mr. 
Salvin's Cormorants frequently caught water-rats, and he once 
saw one of them take a diving Moorhen, but the feathers 
appeared to annoy it, and the captive was soon released and 
made off with all speed after its unpleasant experience. 

After catching and eating their dinner the Cormorants 
attend to their toilet, drying themselves by flapping their 
wings and standing with them half spread in the peculiarly 
dejected attitude which is so characteristic of these birds, before 
carefully oiling their feathers ready for the next dive. 

Cormorants are sometimes extraordinarily self-possessed from 
the day they are caught, and not at all difficult to tame, 
though it takes some time to train a bird thoroughly. Mon- 
tagu had one which was caught in the Channel and which, 
immediately it had been received and liberated, followed the ser- 
vant who released it and, after being fed, sat perfectly contented 
on a stool, putting its plumage in order. Montagu left it at its 
toilet and retired to his library with a friend, but they had not 
been there very long before the bird w^alked in and settled 
down quietly by the fireside, where it resumed its task of preen- 
ing its feathers. From that time forward it remained perfectly 
tame, never going far from the house; whenever the door 
was left open it walked in with the greatest assurance, without 
paying the slightest attention to anybody. It did not even 
show respect for a dog — in fact it was, we are told, " trouble- 
somely tame." After being in Montagu''s possession for several 
years, the bird eventually found an honourable resting-place in 
the British Museum. 

In his delightful book, A Breath from the Vcklt, Mr. Millais 
331 



FISHING 

describes a method of fishing practised by the little Green 
Cormorants {Phalacrocorax capensis) on the coast of South 
Africa, which, so far as I am aware, is not resorted to by any 
other marine bird with the exception of the White Pelican. 
As a rule they dive independently like other Cormorants, and I 
have not seen them fish in any other way, but Mr. Millais says 
that, should the traveller be so disposed, the interesting sight 
which he describes may be witnessed any day. Food being 
excessively abundant, the birds have discovered that they can 
obtain a full stomach with far less trouble by uniting their 
forces, and the plan which they adopt is this. Ten or twenty 
of them form a line, the birds being about two feet apart, and 
in this order the whole company swims close to the shore and at 
right angles to it, the nearest bird being so close to the beach 
that it can only just float. As they move onwards they keep 
a sharp look-out by plunging their heads beneath the surface, 
until they come upon a shoal of small fish. Then, like a line 
of soldiers, they wheel round towards the shore, most of them 
diving in order to frighten the fishes and drive them towards the 
beach. In this way very large numbers of fishes are forced 
into the shallows, and in their confusion many of them dash 
ashore, where they are gobbled up as they leap about in their 
efforts to regain the water. 

Cormorants have a strong musky odour ; whether this has 
any effect in attracting fishes I do not know, but according to 
Jerdon, that is stated to be so in the case of another bird, the 
Grey Pelican (Pelecanus philipperisis) of Southern Asia. We 
are told that this Pelican is used by fishermen in some parts of 
Eastern Bengal as a decoy to assist in catching certain sorts of 
fish, such as the various kinds of Colisa, which are said to be 
attracted by an oily secretion which exudes from the bird's 
skin. The cruel custom was to sew up the Pelicans'' eyes to 
prevent the birds from doing any fishing on their own account, 
and then to tie them to the boat The White Pelican is said 
to be of no use as s decoy. 

332 



FISHING 

The American White Pelicans {Pelecanus americantis), already 
mentioned, put to sea in company, like a fishing-fleet. Their 
favourite time for fishing is at the incoming of the tide, 
when multitudes of little fisKes swim shorewards to feed on the 
various small living creatures which are overtaken by the tide, 
and larger fishes follow in the wake of the small ones to feed on 
them. The Pelicans wait patiently in solemn line along the 
beach until the time has come for action, when one of them 
yawns and begins to waddle clumsily through the shallows, others 
gradually following its example until all are fairly launched, 
when they fall into line and paddle onwards to where hundreds 
of small fish are dancing amidst the waters. Thereupon they 
turn towards the shore and, acting as though with one accord 
on the signal of their leader, suddenly abandon their placid 
demeanour. With a great flapping of their broad wings and 
much commotion, they begin to press closely forward with 
powerful strokes of their feet, driving the little fishes towards 
the shallows ; stretching out their necks, they plunge the lower 
part of their great bills, spread wide like so many bag-nets, 
into the water, and scoop up whatever fish or other food may 
chance to come into them. When they have filled their 
pouches they waddle on to the beach again and stand close 
together or lie down while they enjoy in a leisurely manner the 
fruit of their fishing. After a fitting interval for repose and 
meditation the whole flock often takes flight and soars in 
circles at an immense height in the air. 

If one of the birds be caught after a meal it at once dis- 
gorges all it has swallowed. It appears to be the easiest thing 
in the world for the fishing birds to do this ; it is the regular 
and correct procedure as a preliminary to serious flight when 
pursued by an enemy to cast away all ballast, so to speak, and 
that probably accounts for the readiness with which a Gull or 
Tern will yield its latest meal when the demands of one of the 
bird pirates become really pressing. 

Brown Pelicans (P. fascus) have not yet learnt the advan- 
333 



FISHING 

tages of combination ; they do their fishing independently, 
often diving completely below the sur/ace, and not immersing 
the head or bill only, like their white cousins. They swallow 
their prey as soon as it is scooped up, before making another 
plunge, only pausing to drain off the water from the pouch. 

Though a Pelican seldom seizes a fish longer than its bill, 
its objection is merely to size, and not to quantity. An 
experiment was once made with a captive bird to see how 
much it would take into its beak. It began by trying to pick , 
up a large fish weighing ten pounds, but was obliged to leave 
it because its bill was not strong enough to deal with such 
a heavy weight all at once. After this unsuccessful attempt it 
turned its attention to fishes of more modest dimensions,? and 
eventually picked up ten smaller ones averaging about a pound- 
apiece, trudging off with them, we are told, " very stately, with 
the bag hanging down to his feet." 

Next to the Pelican^s bag-net, perhaps the most curious 
apparatus for fishing possessed by any bird is the extraordinary 
bill of the Skimmers {Rhynchops)^ which resembles the blades 
of a pair of scissors, except that the two parts meet edge to 
edge instead of overlapping. In nearly all birds the upper 
portion of the bill, or maxilla^ is fixed, the lower part only, or 
mandible^ being capable of movement ; but the Skimmer moves 
both blades, as we may call them, of its bill, which is thus still 
more like a pair of scissors. The mandible, which is as thin as 
a knife-blade, is nearly half as long again as the maxilla, and 
when the bird goes fishing it opens its bill and dips the lower 
blade into the waves as it skims over the sea. Moving 
lightly and gracefully with long strokes of its wings, which are 
held very high so that the tips shall not strike the surface, it 
ploughs the water, in which its quarry swims, to the extent of 
several yards at a time, dipping its bill whenever it catches 
sight of a small fish or prawn or other attractive morsel of 
food. Having seized its prey, the bird instantly rises to 
munch and swallow it on the wing. 

334 



FISHING 

Apart from their singular bill, the Skimmers have the 
appearance of large Terns ; but they differ from other Gulls in 
their habits as Owls differ from Falcons — that is to say, they 
rest by day and only begin to fly about in search of food 
as night approaches. When resting they lie flat on a sand- 
bank with their bills extended before them — not tucked away 
amongst the scapular feathers or under the wing. All day 
long they seldom move or utter a sound, but as the sun sets 
they begin to stretch themselves and hop about, until it gets 
dark, when they become quite talkative and seem to be making 
a lot of fuss about having to start work. Their cry is peculiar, 
and not unlike the barking of a rather lazy small dog. 

Some of the birds nearly related to Skimmers are very skilful 
in opening mussels and similar molluscs with their beaks, and 
if we can rely on the accuracy of observations alluded to by 
more than one naturalist, which I do not feel sure about, the 
Skimmers themselves are particularly clever in this respect. 
Lesson states that he saw an American Skimmer sit down 
quietly beside some bivalves which had been uncovered by the 
outgoing tide and wait for them to open. As soon as the 
valves separated, the bird inserted its knife-like bill between 
them, . with the result that the mussel, or whatever it was, 
closed its shell again quickly, gripping the bill firmly between 
the edges of the two valves. The bird then flew to a neigh- 
bouring stone and deprived the mollusc of its armour by beat- 
ing the shell to pieces. 

One of the most interesting sights around our coasts is to 
witness a flock of Gannets fishing on a calm day. During the 
nesting-season the birds remain for the most part in the neigh- 
bourhood of the rocky isles, such as the Bass Rock and Ailsa 
Craig, which they have so long colonised, but towards the 
autumn, when the young are ready to fly, they betake them- 
selves to the open sea, where they follow the shoals of herrings 
and pilchards. By watching the birds' actions fishermen can 
tell where they will find a shoal of fish and in what direction it 

335 



FISHING 



1 

DOUt I 

lanv 



is moving. Gannets are almost entirely white, and are about 
as large as Geese — indeed ' Solan Goose ' is one of the many 
names by which the bird is commonly known. They fly in 
single file when they have discovered their prey, and as each 
one comes over the shoal it closes its wings and dashes down 
into the waves, coming up again a few seconds later with a 
herring in its bill, several yards from the place where it made 
the plunge. Shaking the water from its feathers, it mounts in 
a wide curve and takes its place in a very orderly manner in 
the rear of the string of fishers, where it awaits its turn to 
make another plunge. This tremendous dive of the Gannet 
must be seen to be appreciated. The actual time taken from 
the beginning of the plunge to the moment when the bird 
reaches the sea is about fifteen seconds, so that when it strikes 
the water it must be travelling at a speed of several miles a 
minute ! This speed is necessary in order to carry the diver 
deep enough into the water, for although it is so large a bird, 
the Gannet is extremely light owing to the extensive air-cells 
which pervade the whole of its body. It is literally as light as 
cork, and it bobs up to the surface after its dive like a bladder 
filled with air. 

Gannets are singularly conservative in their choice of a 
settlement for nesting purposes. The number of rocky isles all 
over the world which they seem to regard as suitable is quite 
small; consequently the rocks which they do inhabit are covered 
with countless multitudes of birds and nests. In 1860 Dr. 
Bryant reckoned the population of Gannets on Great Bird 
Rock, on the western side of the Atlantic, at 50,000 pairs, but 
owing to the brutality of fishermen they were reduced to one- 
tenth of that number a quarter of a century later, and there 
appeared to be every chance of the species being exterminated in 
those parts. This brings us to an interesting subject in connec- 
tion with bird-life with which v/e must deal in another chapter. 



336 



CHAPTER XX 

BIRDS OF THE PAST AND VANISHING 
SPECIES 

Persecuted birds—' Plume-hunters ' — Early voyagers and the Great Auk — 
The fate of flightless birds — How the Dodo got to Mauritius — The trust- 
fulness of island birds : ' Simpletons ' and ' Boobies ' — A Dodo in 
London — The doom of the Kiwi— The Roc in legend and fact— Giant 
birds — A family vault — Archaeopteryx, the lizard-tailed, toothed fossil- 
bird— Didunculus, the toothed bird of modern times— A happy survival 
— A stupendous massacre : the story of the Passenger-Pigeons. 

THE wholesale slaughter of Gannets by sailors on Great 
Bird Rock, to which we referred at the end of the last 
chapter, is but an instance of the kind of senseless 
action which has in other cases resulted in the extinction of a 
whole species. Birds which congregate during the nesting- 
season on some remote rock, or inhabit an isle of which they 
have for ages enjoyed peaceful possession, are often very tame ; 
unaccustomed to the invasion of their sanctuary by man, 
neither instinct nor experience has taught them to avoid him, 
and before they can realise what a terrible creature has come 
amongst them countless hosts may be destroyed. 

For some reason which we do not yet fully understand, many 
birds are so extremely conservative in their choice of nesting- 
ground that they seem to prefer to endure the greatest incon- 
venience from overcrowding rather than start a fresh colony 
elsewhere, though there may be other sites quite near which, 
so far as we can see, would be equally suitable for their pur- 
pose. The consequence is that during part of the year an 
entire species may be huddled together in a few small areas ; 
Y 337 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

hence it comes about that not only may a whole colony be 
exterminated within the space of a few years, but if all the 
colonies suffer persecution, as may easily happen when they 
are so few in number, the race may become quite extinct. 

Is not that a sad thought ? There is hardly a single species 
— perhaps not one — that is not either so interesting, or beauti- 
ful, or useful, or such pleasant company, that the world would 
be poorer for the loss of it. " When I hear of the destruction 
of a species,^' says President Roosevelt, " I feel as if all the 
works of some great writer had perished." And scores of 
species have been destroyed, and many more are being de- 
stroyed to-day ; and very often indeed man is responsible. 

It is true that man is not always to blame, however, for 
in many cases, as we shall see presently, the inevitable invasion 
of their territory has meant the inevitable death of the birds ; 
but in other instances man is very much to blame, for he 
goes out of his way, at the bidding of milliners, to destroy 
wantonly, and often cruelly, some of the most beautiful birds 
in the world. I think we ought all to feel very angry about 
that. I have walked through a great warehouse in the city 
of London between interminable rows of benches on which 
skins of beautiful-plumaged birds were piled shoulder high. 
Hundreds of thousands of the most beautiful of created beings 
had been slain to furnish this ignoble mart — Humming-birds, 
Parrots, Quails, Blue Creepers, Argus Pheasants, Paradise-birds, 
and scores of other kinds. Nothing had been spared which 
could contribute to the making of that badge of ancestral 
savagery which otherwise -gentle ladies are not ashamed to 
wear upon their heads. 

The most sickening sight was that of thousands of bundles 
and packets of so-called ' ospreys ' — the delicate bridal plumes 
of the White Egret. There is not a word to be said in defence 
of the slaughter of these birds. The plumes, under whatever 
name they are known — 'ospreys,** 'aigrettes,' or 'stubs' — 
are all taken from Herons shot during the nesting-season. 

3^^ 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

Only then do they bear the coveted feathers ; only then, while 
their usual shyness is overcome by their anxiety for the young 
in their nests, can they be approached near enough to be shot, 
and only by shooting can they be secured. As they return to 
their young they are killed, and the young are left to starve. 
It is now well known that all aigrettes are obtained by this 
infamous slaughter, but nothing will hinder it while people 
are willing to pay for the plumes several times their weight in 
gold. Already the American Egret and the Snowy Heron 
have been almost exterminated in the United States. Years 
ago, before the ' plume-hunters ' got seriously to work, the birds 
were plentiful in Florida; now they are rarely seen, even in 
the swamp- wildernesses of that strange country, and though 
the killing of a Heron is punishable by a fine of five 
hundred dollars, the men who are ready to risk their lives in 
this abominable traffic are not likely to be deterred by any laws. 

It is not the least deplorable part of a sad story that the birds 
which have been doomed to extinction in the past, and those 
which are disappearing or being ruthlessly destroyed to-day, 
are nearly all very remarkable birds. We cannot, of course, 
describe or even mention every one of them in a single chapter, 
but we will try to make the acquaintance of a few. 

Within the lifetime of men who are still not very old, a 
curious bird which was once a native of these islands has been 
completely exterminated. This is the Gare-fowl, or Great Auk 
{Alca impennis), of which you have certainly heard, because from 
time to time — not very often — a paragraph in the newspapers 
informs us that a Great Auk's egg has been sold at auction for 
some astonishing price. About nine years ago, £315 was the 
sum paid for a single egg ; it is true that the same egg was 
again sold quite recently for only £110, but even that 
comparatively small sum would have astonished our great- 
grandfathers. For of course nobody cared very much about 
these birds when myriads of them frequented the northern seas, 
or was particularly interested in them— except the sailors who 

339 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

provisioned their vessels with them. We learn from old narra- 
tives of voyages that they were at one time so abundant that 
mariners going to and from the New World carried but " small 
store of flesh with them," relying on the apparently inexhaus- 
tible supply of savoury " Pin-wings "' (as they were called) and 
eggs, which they could obtain on the isles south of Newfound- 
land. These islands became regular victualling-stations, for 
in those times ships were not fitted with refrigerators, nor were 
there any tinned meats or condensed foods ; it was therefore 
impossible to carry a supply of fresh provisions sufficient to last 
for more than a few days, and anything was preferable to the 
monotony and unhealthiness of a perpetual diet of salt pork 
and hard, worm-eaten biscuits. Rude stone enclosures were 
built where the Pin- wings were impounded before slaughter, 
and the hapless birds were herded like tame Geese and 
driven with sticks over a sail or planks into a boat, " as many 
as shall lade her,"' to be killed and salted down or pickled like 
pork. In the middle of last century, the stone pounds were 
still standing, but the Pin-wings had long all been dead : an 
island in the Newfoundland Sea — Penguin Island, so named by 
the early settlers and fishermen — commemorates their race. 

This old name of Pin-wing, corrupted into Penguin, was 
appropriate, for like the birds which we call Penguins to-day, 
the Gare-fowl had diminutive wings which were quite useless 
for flight ; they were admirable swimmers, however, though in 
the early days before they had become wary of man they could 
be overtaken by boats under sail. Afterwards, when it was too 
late, they learnt to avoid their enemy, and the latest survivors 
gave a good account of themselves. One of the last seen about 
our coasts, off" the Orkneys in 1812, was chased for hours by 
men in a six-oared boat without being captured ; eventually, 
however, it was taken by the boatmen, and its stuffed skin is 
now in the British Museum. In 1834, another Gare-fowl was 
taken alive at the entrance of Waterford harbour — and there is 
no account of any having been found in British waters since. 

340 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

The race lingered for ten years longer on an island reef off the 
coast of Iceland, but ultimately died out there also, the last two 
birds known to have lived having been ' taken,' as the 
collectors say, more than sixty years ago. 

The latest colonies, on almost inaccessible rocks in the Iceland 
seas, were not so readily persecuted as those in more frequented 
regions, and some naturalists consider that it is by no means 
clear why they became extinct. But persecuted they were ; oc- 
casional vessels made raids upon the unfortunate birds in their 
last asylum, killed all they could, and brought off all the eggs 
upon which they were able to lay hands. If it be true, as is 
stated, that these birds laid but one egg in the season, we need 
not wonder, I think, that they were exterminated. 

Such then, briefly, is the story of the extinction of the Gare- 
fowl ; first a tale of wholesale slaughter by early voyagers, then 
a period of ruthless persecution until there were but few sur- 
vivors, and finally complete extermination of the dying species 
at the hands of collectors. 

Probably some Penguins would meet with the same fate but for 
the happy circumstance that their native home is on the ice- 
bound shores of the Antarctic, where they are treated with con- 
sideration by the brave men who face terrible hardships in the 
interests of science, and do not visit those desolate regions to kill. 

Whalers and seal-hunters, however, besides exterminating the 
Antarctic right-whale and killing nearly all the Antarctic fur- 
seals, did their best to exterminate the Black Swan of Aus- 
tralia, which they caught and killed in great numbers — whole 
boatloads at a time — for the sake of its down. But though 
this bird may cease to exist in the wild state, it is not at all 
likely that it is doomed to extinction, for its ornamental 
appearance, its sooty-black plumage relieved by the snowy 
white of the flight-feathers and the whole enlivened by an 
ivory-banded coral bill, will always make it a favourite captive 
in civilised countries. 

Island animals of all sorts, if they have long been in undisputed 
341 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 



^ 



possession of their home, are notoriously defenceless. Take, 
for example, that curious creature the sea-cow, discovered 
by Steller in the Aleutian Islands in the eighteenth century. 
It was an unwieldy animal about twenty feet long, with 
skin rough as the bark of an oak tree, a pair of flipper- 
like limbs in front, no hind limbs at all, a fish-like tail, and a 
head ridiculously small in comparison with its bulky body. 
Devoid of teeth (it had bony plates instead), it browsed peace- 
fully on seaweed, and then went ashore to rest. As soon as its 
existence became known, sailors went to call upon it, and 
finding it quite palatable and large enough to keep a crew in 
meat for some time — it weighed several thousand pounds — they 
knocked it on the head and ate it. In about ten years there 
were no sea-cows left. 

Unwieldy birds which cannot fly well are as certainly 
doomed to extinction as Steller's sea-cow when they are brought 
into contact with man and carnivorous beasts. There have 
been many such birds. One, of which everybody has heard, 
was the Dodo of Mauritius ; then there were the big Crested 
Parrot of the same island, the Solitaire of Rodriguez, and the 
giant Moa of New Zealand, which are now as extinct as the 
Dodo. You will notice that all these birds lived on islands, 
and as they were unable to fly you may wonder how they ever got 
there. How, for instance, did the Dodo come to make its home 
on Mauritius — a lofty, volcanic island in the Indian Ocean, a 
hundred miles from anywhere, and surrounded by water more 
than two thousand fathoms deep ? 

There can be little doubt that this is how it happened. 
Long, long ages ago, a large ground-feeding Pigeon (the Dodo 
was really a kind of Pigeon, though it did not look in the least 
like any of the Pigeons with which we are familiar in these 
days) reached the island, travelling by way of other islands, 
which afterwards became submerged. For you must know that 
the surface of the land really does rise and sink, quite apart 
from the upheavals and subsidences caused by volcanoes or 

342 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

earthquakes which may cause an island to rise above the ocean 
or to disappear quite suddenly. The movement is very slow, 
but is always going on in some part of the world. Though 
we do not see much of it in England, elsewhere it is quite 
obvious. On the coast of South America, for example, an 
upward movement has been going on for a thousand years past, 
and is still taking place at the rate of half a foot or more 
every year. So you see that the ground-feeding Pigeon may 
very well have got to Mauritius by short stages in the way 
suggested, even if it was not a very good flier. 

When it arrived, it found the island a pleasant place to live 
in, for not only was the country covered with virgin forest 
where it could get an unlimited supply of food, but there were 
no enemies powerful enough to attack it. Probably there was 
not a mammal of any kind living there, far less a beast of prey 
or other carnivorous animal. So the Pigeon became a per- 
manent settler, and increased and multiplied unchecked. It 
lived on the ground, finding there its food and all that it 
required ; having no further occasion to use its wings to escape, 
they gradually, through want of use, became smaller and weaker, 
as they did in the case of other birds in similar circumstances. 

Amidst such conditions, indeed, wings might be a positive 
drawback, because the islands are sometimes swept by great 
hurricanes, and it is quite probable that birds which flew up 
into the trees to roost or tried to fly across rivers near the coast 
might be carried out to sea by the violence of the wind and 
drowned ; while birds with wings too short to raise their bulky 
bodies easily, being content to remain on the ground and roost 
in the shelter of the forest, would escape such a fate, and 
would also be less liable to attack from any Bird-of-Prey that 
chanced to visit the island. For reasons such as these the 
sturdier birds with short legs and very small wings would be the 
ones to survive. 

So, no doubt, it came about that when the island of Mauritius 
was first discovered by the Portuguese about the beginning of 

343 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

the sixteenth century, they found its most remarkable inhabi- 
tants were a race of large, ungainly, almost wingless fowls 
which they called Doudos,ih.Sit is to say, simpletons, just as the 
Spanish and Portuguese sailors, and no doubt our own seamen 
too, called the sea-birds which they found inhabiting island 
rocks, and which used to alight upon ships and allow them- 
selves to be taken by hand, Bohos or boobies. It is a character- 
istic of nearly all birds which have long existed undisturbed on a 
remote island to be ' simple.' 

Cowley observed that when he was in the Galapagos Islands 
in 1684, the Doves " were so tame that they would often alight 
on our hats and arms, so that we could take them alive," and 
their education had not progressed very far when Darwin 
visited the islands about two hundred years later, for he saw 
a boy sitting beside a well holding a switch, with which he was 
killing Doves and Finches as they went to the water to drink. 
Darwin himself pushed a Hawk off a tree with the muzzle of 
his gun, and he tells us that the small birds came to drink out 
of a vessel in his hand. So it was on the Falkland Islands, 
and so too on the lone isle of Tristan d'Acunha in the far-off 
South Atlantic, where Thrushes and Buntings were easily 
caught in a hand-net, and where to this day the Albatrosses 
allow themselves to be approached when sitting on their nests 
without being in any haste to retire. One of the earliest 
visitors to Prince Edward Islands in the Southern Ocean found 
the Sheath-bills {Chionis minor) so troublesomely tame that he 
was often obliged to kick them out of his way, and when he 
hid himself behind a rock they would come out and peep over 
at him and chatter, and seem quite pleased at having found 
him again ! 

No account of the ways of the Dodos as observed by the 
earliest discoverers of their island — that is to say, the Portu- 
guese — has come down to us, but at the end of the sixteenth 
century the island was rediscovered by the Dutch, who found 
the birds still in possession. Thenceforward voyagers vied 

344 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

with each other in describing the Dodo's uncouth appearance, 
and some of them drew pictures of it. One of these drawings, 
the first that was ever published, appeared in a book of travel, 
called India Orientalis, by the two brothers de Bry, in the year 
1601, and it gives such an admirably quaint representation of 
the doings of the early explorers that we have had a copy 
made, which you will see on the opposite page. It is called 
" How the Hollanders found immense Tortoises in the island 
of Mauritius." One of these huge animals, with a carapace 
like a neatly built brick dome, is shown in the foreground, 
marching along in a very business-like way as though he was 
in a hurry to get rid of the two gentlemen armed with halberd 
and flint-lock who are seated on his back, like passengers on the 
' knifeboard ' seat of an old-fashioned omnibus. Ten other 
members of the party are holding a picnic in the empty cara- 
pace of another tortoise. 

But for us the real interest of the picture lies in the birds. 
After describing to what an immense size the tortoises grew, 
the author goes on to say : " In the same Island they found a 
very large number of Parrots and Pigeons which were so tame 
that they knocked them down with sticks. Other birds were 
seen besides, which the Dutch called Walchvogel^ and they 
brought one with them to Holland.'*' Everything except the 
Pigeons is shown in this delightful picture. There are the 
Parrots, and the men striking them down with clubs ; one man 
is filling a sack with them, to the obvious annoyance of his 
latest captive, who appears to be resenting the indignity i^ a 
very outspoken manner. There, too, between the trees on 
the left and down by the water's edge, are the WalcJivogel, 
which are none other than our friend the Dodo. Walchvogel 
means nauseous birds, and they were so called, it is said, 
because no sort of cooking made them palatable. But it 
was admitted that their breast was tender, so perhaps they 
were only nauseous by comparison with the abundant 
iiainty food which this island paradise afforded — such, for 

345 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

instance, as the Parrots, of which the larger kinds are said 
to be very good eating. 

The representations of the Dodo in this print are distinctly 
flattering so far as gracefulness is concerned, but they hardly 
do justice to the bird's delightful grotesqueness. Living 
specimens were brought by navigators to Europe and were 
painted by a celebrated artist named Roelandt Savery, and 
others. Many of the portraits made at this time are still 
in existence, and they shov/ a clumsy-looking bird rather 
like a very fat chicken of immense size (for the Dodo was 
about three feet long), with short legs, absurdly small wings, 
a no less absui'dly large beak of a very curious shape, 
and a tuft of curly feathers sticking up very high on the 
back by way of a tail. In de Bry's illustration the legs 
are far too long, the body is too slender, and the head 
and bill are not nearly large enough ; while the curly tail 
is not shown, though there is just a suggestion of it in 
the bird whose back is turned to the halberdier landing 
from a boat, who appears to be about to chastise the WalcJivogel 
for receiving a visitor so discourteously. 

An original drawing made by a draughtsman on board one 
of the Dutch fleets which visited the island a few years later 
also shows the bird devoid of a curly tail-tuft, and, though. I 
have nowhere seen it suggested, it seems just possible that 
this form of decoration was only found in the adult birds, and 
was perhaps possessed only by males. 

In 1628, an Englishman named Emanuel Altham wrote from 
Mauritius to his brother at home : " You shall receue ... a 
strange fowle : which I had at the Hand Mamitius called by ye 
portingalls a Do Do : which for the rareness thereof I hope wilbe 
welcome to you." Whether this birdTever arrived we do not 
know; but ten years later one of several specimens which 
were probably brought alive to Europe was exhibited as a show 
in London. There is in the British Museum an old manuscript 
written by Sir Hamon L'Estrange, which says : " About 1 638, 

346 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

as I walked London streets, I saw the picture ... of a strange 
fowl hong out upon a cloth . . . and myselfe with one or two 
more Gen. in company went to see it. It was kept in a 
chamber, and was a great fowle somewhat bigger than the 
largest Turky Cock and so legged and footed but stouter and 
thicker and of a more erect shape, coloured before like the 
breast of a young Cock Fesan and on the back of a dunn or 
deare coulour. The keeper called it a Dodo and in the ende of 
a chimney in the chamber there lay an heap of large pebble 
stones whereof hee gave it many in our sight, some as bigg as 
nutmegs and the keeper told us shee eats them conducing to 
digestion and though I remember not how farre the keeper was 
questioned therein yet I am confident that afterwards shee cast 
them all agayne."" 

Perhaps this was the bird the embalmed body of which 
afterwards passed to the Ashmolean Collection at Oxford. 
Unfortunately it became mouldy and eaten by insects, and in 
course of time the Vice- Chancellor and Proctors of the Univer- 
sity ordered that it should be destroyed. The curator, how- 
ever, cut off the head and one foot and kept them. This head 
and foot, another foot in the Natural History Museum in 
London, a skull in Copenhagen, and a number of bones and 
skeletons dug from the mud of a lake in Mauritius, are about 
all we have left of the Dodos. For at least two and a quarter 
centuries past, no man, it is thought, has seen one alive. The 
final cause of its downfall was — pigs ! Pigs were introduced 
into Mauritius ; they ran wild, and increased at such an alarm- 
ing rate that in 1709 the inhabitants organised a grand hunt and 
killed more than five hundred in a single day. But the pigs had 
already destroyed the most interesting of the native animals. 

Mr. Belloc's lines on the Dodo, in The Bad ChilcTs Book of 
Beasts, may well stand as an epitaph on these quaint birds : — 

The Dodo used to walk around^ 

And take the sun and air. 
The Sun yet warms his native ground— 

The Dodo is not there ! 

347 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

That voice whicli used to squawk and squeak 

Is now for ever dumb — 
Yet may you see his bones and beak 

All in the Mu — se— um. 

Some birds still living are not even so well endowed with 
wings as was the now extinct Dodo. The queer little Kiwis 
{Apteryx) of New Zealand, which hide in burrows by day and 
only come out by night to run about sniffing for worms, 
have wings so small that they are altogether concealed amidst 
the fur-like plumage in which the body is clothed. These 
birds are related to the Ostriches but do not exceed a large 
domestic Fowl in size, and as they have no efficient means of 
defence they would probably have become extinct before now 
but for their nocturnal habits. Unhappily, it is practically 
certain that they cannot survive many more years, owing to 
the destructiveness of the stoats and weasels -which have most 
unwisely been introduced into New Zealand with the intention 
of reducing the number of rabbits. The rabbits of course 
flourish and multiply in spite of this vermin, just as they do in 
England. 

The Apteryx has the distinction of laying a relatively larger 
Ggg than any other living bird. The largest eggs that have 
ever been discovered, however, are those of the extinct Ostrich- 
like bird of Madagascar, the JEpyornis, which measure more 
than a foot in length and are large enough to contain two or 
three gallons of liquid, or about as much as a hundred and fifty 
hens'* eggs. A fine specimen of these gigantic eggs was found 
with the skeleton of some chief, in whose lap it had appar- 
ently been placed at burial, with the idea of furnishing him 
with an ample supply of food during his journey to another 
world. They probably gave rise to the story of the colossal 
Roc, mentioned by the traveller Marco Polo and celebrated in 
the Arabian Nights, w^hich, according to the legend, could carry 
an elephant in its clutch. This wonderful story was further 
embellished about two hundred years ago by a French writer who 

348 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

described how the inhabitants of Madagascar had to take tame 
tigers about with them for protection against the terrible birds ! 

We do not know very much about the ^Epyornis, but a great 
deal has been discovered about somewhat similar birds, the 
gigantic Moas of New Zealand. The Moas were probably the 
largest birds that have ever inhabited the earth, though they 
laid much smaller eggs than their relatives in Madagascar. 
Their leg-bones are larger than those of a dray-horse, and if we 
can judge by comparison with the Ostriches of to-day — mere 
chickens by contrast — they must have been capable of deliver- 
ing a terrible kick. Devoid of wings, they strode through the 
sombre forests in the far-off ages before the Maoris arrived in 
New Zealand, looking down upon man and beast from a height 
of twelve or fourteen feet, and leaving imprints in the soft 
earth a foot and a half in length. No doubt these giant birds 
were hunted by the Maoris for food, for the earliest European 
explorers of New Zealand found Moa-bones in plenty lying 
about the surface of the ground, especially near the old cooking- 
places of the natives, and often showing traces of the action of 
fire. In one district pieces of skin and feathers were also 
found. Legends of the way in which Moas were cooked still 
survive; but the exact reason why the birds became extinct 
remains a mystery. 

One day a man who was ploughing an exposed patch of 
rising ground unearthed a large bone, which he sent to Dr. 
Forbes, at that time Director of the Christchurch Museum at 
Canterbury, New Zealand. It proved to be a Moa-bone, and 
on digging down in the place where it was discovered. Dr. 
Forbes found the remains of no less than six hundred Moas of 
all sizes, together with those of Geese, Ducks, and Birds-of- 
Prey, all buried in a narrow space scarcely thirty yards long. 
How they came to be there nobody can tell, for even if a great 
herd of Moas had been overwhelmed by some sudden catas- 
trophe it is not easy to account for the presence amongst the 
dead of such excellent fliers as Hawks and Ducks. 

349 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

We stated a few pages back that the ancestors of the Dodo 
were probably able to fly, but that their wings gradually be- 
came smaller until at last they were incapable of raising the 
bird's heavy body from the ground. We cannot enter here into 
all the reasons for believing this, but we can say that the most 
ancient bird of which we know anything at all had well- 
developed wings. This very remarkable and interesting bird, 
of which two fossil specimens have been found, both in the 
lithographic slates of Solenhofen in Bavaria (you may see one 
of them in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington), 
is called Archaeopteryx. About the size of a Rook or large 
Pigeon, it was in many respects very different from any bird now 
existing. It had no beak, but its jaws were armed with teeth, 
set in sockets like those of the crocodile. Then it had three 
distinct and separate fingers on each wing, whereas in all 
living birds the parts of the fingers which remain are tied 
together. 

The tail of Archaeopteryx was as peculiar as its head. What 
we usually speak of as a bird's tail is merely the feathers on the 
tail ; the real tail has for its foundation a bony plate, the 
end of the backbone, on which the feathers are supported 
in the form of a fan. In the quite young chick, before it leaves 
the egg, we can see that this bony plate is formed from six or 
seven separate bones, one behind another, which eventually all 
become compressed into one single bone ; but in Archaeopteryx 
this had not taken place. The tail was long, made up of many 
bones, like that of a lizard, and each bone carried a pair of 
feathers, one on each side. In fact, this little creature re- 
sembled a lizard-like reptile, but it was a true bird, because it 
had well-developed feathers, not only on its long tail, but also 
on its fore-arms and hands and thighs. Naturalists have good 
reasons for believing that all birds are descended from reptilian 
ancestors, and there is no more striking evidence of this than 
the reptile-like peculiarities of Archaeopteryx. 

Not very many years ago, birds with teeth still existed on the 
350 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

globe. These interesting birds were relatives of the Dodo, but 
did not at all resemble that clumsy bird in appearance, except 
in having a rather heavy bill. Like the Dodo, however, they 
were island dwellers and had forgotten how to fly. Their home 
was in Samoa, and the natives, who called them Manu-mea, used 
to preserve them ; in fact, one of the chiefs had a hut in the 
bush where they were fed daily. 

The Manu-mea is known to naturalists as the Tooth-billed 
Pigeon {Didunculus strigirostris\ and specimens are to be seen 
in museums ; one in the Natural History Museum at South 
Kensington is about the size of a rather fine domestic Pigeon. 
Though it had perfectly formed wings it used to live almost 
entirely, if not altogether, on the ground, for it had no natural 
enemies in its island home. As Samoa became more civilised, 
however, the natives began, like other civilised folks, to make 
pets of cats, which they obtained from ships visiting the 
islands. But pussy (the natives adopted not only the pet, but 
also the name) did not care much for her new master's diet, which 
consisted chiefly of yams and similar vegetable food, so she 
began to go hunting in the woods on her own account. 
" There," says Mr. Gosse, " she met with the feeble-winged 
Didunculus scratching the soft earth for seeds, and with a purr 
and a mew soon scraped acquaintance with the stranger. Pussy 
declared she loved him well, and so she did — too well, in fact ; 
she felt ' as if she could eat him up ^ ; — and did. The news 
soon spread among the tabbies that there were sweet birds in 
the woods, and the result is the almost total disappearance of 
poor Manu-mea.'''' 

At this critical time the Didunculus seems to have displayed 
a quite unusual amount of intelligence, for those birds which 
escaped being actually killed and eaten learnt that the ground 
is a dangerous place when there are cats wandering about, and 
took to feeding, building, and roosting on high trees. It is not 
often that birds learn such a lesson soon enough to profit by it, 
but the Didunculus appears to have been an exception to the 

351 



BIRDS OF THE PAST 

rule, for just when it was on the point of extinction it began 
once more to increase in numbers. It is said to survive to 
this day, but I have not met with any very recent accounts 
of it being actually observed in its native home. 

The survival of the Tooth-billed Pigeon of Samoa is, however, 
not more remarkable than the extinction of its cousin, the 
Passenger-Pigeon {Ectopistes migratorius) of Eastern North 
America, which was not only an admirable flier, but existed 
until a few years ago in numbers beyond all computation. 
One colony seen by the naturalist Wilson was estimated to 
contain more than 2230 millions, and a single nesting-place 
in a Kentucky forest was several miles in breadth and 
upwards of forty miles in length. In this immense tract nearly 
every tree was furnished with nests wherever there were 
branches to accommodate them. 

The multitudes of Pigeons observed by Audubon early in the 
last century were no less amazing. In the region of the Ohio, in 
1813, he one day found th.^ flocks which were passing overhead 
so numerous that he could not keep count of them ; he noted 
one hundred and sixty-three in twenty-one minutes. " I 
travelled on, and still met more the farther I proceeded. The 
air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noon-day 
was obscured as by an eclipse . . . and the continued buzz of 
wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose. 

" Not a bird alighted ; for not a beech-nut or acorn was to be 
found in the neighbourhood that year ; they passed high over- 
head. At sunset they were still passing in undiminished 
numbers, and this tremendous procession continued for three 
days. The people were all in arms, and multitudes of birds 
were destroyed ; no other flesh was eaten for a week ; Pigeons 
were the sole topic of conversation. There must have been 
billions of birds — an army requiring millions of bushels of food 
every day." 

Great parties of gunners, provided with carts, camped beside 
the woods where the Pigeons nested, and slaughtered millions 

352 



AND VANISHING SPECIES 

of them without producing any appreciable reduction in their 
numbers. But in time organised persecution had its effect ; 
thirty years ago the birds, though still common, were no longer 
enormously abundant ; and at the present time, the only living 
representatives of this once multitudinous species are a few birds 
in an aviary ! Thus in North America the greatest herds of 
animals — the ' buifaloes ' of the prairies — and the most amazing 
flocks of birds which have peopled the earth in the memory 
of man, have been annihilated by reckless slaughter. 



^53 



I 



CHAPTER XXI 
WISDOM AND FOLLY 

Imagination, memory, and intelligence in birds — Mischievousness and 
practical joking — A Raven's strategy — Comparative intelligence of Crows 
and Rooks : the plumage test — Dog versus Magpies — Bird-burial — Parrots 
and monkeys compared — A Parrot biography — A case of insanity — 
Longevity of Parrots and Ravens. 

IT was formerly the fashion to regard man alone as a reason- 
ing animal and to look upon all other living creatures 
as practically devoid of intelligence, but endowed with a 
certain gift called instinct, which enabled them sometimes 
to act in an intelligent-seeming way, though quite without the 
aid of reason. But this convenient and simple theory was 
found not to work very well, because there are many actions 
performed by animals which seem to be the outcome of some- 
thing which it is really impossible to distinguish from reason ; 
and so the pendulum of opinion, of popular opinion at least, 
began to swing to the opposite extreme, and every natural- 
history book and many magazines contained a multitude of 
stories illustrating what was now called the marvellous ' in- 
telligence' of animals. 

Quite recently, however, some well-known writers have re- 
turned very nearly to the old attitude towards this question, 
and would attempt to explain every animal action as the out- 
come of instinct. It is impossible to inquire closely into the 
matter without coming to the conclusion that the truth lies 
somewhere midway between the two extremes, and that many 
animals are certainly endowed not with instinct only, but with 
intelligence and a capacity for simple reasoning. Amongst 

354 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

these a place is clearly due to the highest types of birds, and 
it will be interesting to consider in what way birds show the 
power of reasoning and the possession of intellectual faculties. 
This is not the place to enter into a philosophic discussion of 
the subject, so I will merely choose a few simple illustrations 
and stories of incidents observed by naturalists and others who 
can be relied on not to have added imaginative touches for the 
sake of making their stories more picturesque. 

That some birds have undoubtedly the gift of imagination is 
quite clearly shown by the fact that they dream ; Parrots 
even talk in their sleep. That they have intelligence is shown 
by the way in which they avoid danger or obtain food in cir- 
cumstances so unusual that they could not possibly be overcome 
by means of instinct ; and that they have memory every one is 
well aware, for it is common experience that they return to the 
spot where they are fed, and that many kinds imitate sounds 
which they have heard, while others repeat words, sentences, or 
even whole songs. 

The Parrot family and the Crow family run one another close 
for the pride of place as regards intellectual capacity, and I 
think that it will be best for us to consider that the honours 
are pretty evenly divided between them. 

Crows have excellent memories, and Wilson mentions an 
instance of a tame Crow which had escaped from captivity, and 
which eleven months afterwards left a flock of its own kind, 
amongst which it was flying overhead, and alighted on its 
owner's shoulder as he stood one morning by a river. The 
bird gabbled with great volubility and was evidently pleased 
to see its old friend again, but it would not allow itself to be 
caught, and after an exchange of greetings it returned to its 
companions. 

Crows and other species often show a considerable degree of 
intelligence in their manner of feeding. Tame Crows, for 
instance, discover for themselves that hard crusts can be 
softened and made more palatable by dipping them in water, 

355 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

and some of them regularly practise this trick. A tame 
Herring-Gull which was in the habit of catching Sparrows 
in the garden where it was kept, but which found them rather 
inconvenient objects to swallow, owing to their feathers (and 
the Herring- Gull, it may be remarked, is by no means a fastidious 
bird), used to caiTy its captives to a pond close by and dip 
them in the water, after which it found less difficulty in bolting 
them. 

Both Crows and Gulls when feeding on the seashore have 
very often been observed picking up whelks and other shell-fish 
and flying with them to a certain height, whence they let them 
fall upon the rocks in order to break the shell, afterwards alight- 
ing to pick out the soft morsel thus deprived of its covering. 
Audubon saw a Herring-Gull treat a particularly hard mussel 
in this way three times, flying on each occasion to a greater 
height before it eventually succeeded in its object. The 
Bearded Vulture has for centuries had the reputation of deal- 
ing in the same manner with large bones in order to get at the 
marrow, and it is said that in the Levant these birds crack the 
shells of tortoises in the same way. If that be true, it may 
perhaps be the origin of the story concerning the manner in 
which iEschylus met his death. 

The common Curlew is a bird which does not as a rule 
appear to be exceptionally intelligent, yet one of these birds has 
been known to behave in a way which showed that it was by no 
means devoid of the capacity to plan an action requiring a 
certain amount of reasoning power, when the all -important 
question of food was concerned. The bird, Montagu tells us, 
had been captured after being disabled by a shot in the wing. 
In a day or two, when it had recovered from the first shock of 
its misfortune, it began to eat worms which were offered to it, 
but as there was sometimes difficulty in obtaining a sufficient 
supply of these to satisfy its needs, it was thought desirable to 
attempt to induce it to do without animal food and to live on 
bread and milk, like the Ruffes which were at that time captured 

35^ 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

and fattened for the market. To accustom it to the change, 
worms were at first mixed with its mess of bread and milk, but 
the bird did not take kindly to the dish and used very 
cautiously to pick out the worms one by one and carry them to 
a pond, where it washed them thoroughly before eating them. 
After a week or so, however, it became reconciled to its new 
diet, and soon grew plump on it. 

Returning now to the Crow family, we find that the tricks and 
antics of Ravens indicate not only a good deal of intelligence, but 
a sense of humour as well, or if not humour, a very consider- 
able capacity for amusement at the expense of other animals 
by the practice of all kinds of mischievous tricks. A pet Raven 
will often make the life of a dog almost unbearable by teasing him, 
pulling his tail, pecking him when he is least expecting it, and 
meeting his growling protests with impudent abuse in the 
Raven language. He is far too agile and wily a bird ever 
to be caught, and the dog invariably comes off second best in 
the encounter and is often compelled to slink away in search 
of some quiet corner where he vainly hopes to be left in 
peace. 

Intelligence is most clearly shown, however, when two or 
more Ravens join to carry out what seems to be a carefully 
planned strategy. Many instances of the kind are recorded, 
but as we shall have to give a striking example when speaking 
of Magpies, we will not refer further to them here. 

All Ravens are clever thieves and show a great deal of mental 
alertness in the way in which they immediately take advantage 
of a favourable opportunity of carrying on their depredations, 
A pair of the Alaska Ravens observed by Mr. Littlejohn 
nested on a small island amidst a colony of Gulls on whose 
eggs they to a large extent subsisted. By joining forces when- 
ever they detected the Ravens intent on thieving, the Gulls 
were able to protect most of their eggs ; but when Mr. Little- 
john visited the island the whole colony would take fright and, 
for the time being, leave their nests unguarded. This was the 

357 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 



1 



Ravens' opportunity, and no sooner had the Gulls taken flight 
than they got to work and carried away one egg after another 
to the mainland, where they hid their spoil carefully in the 
moss. They did not waste time in feasting on the eggs then, 
but just went on robbing the nests as quickly as they could 
until the visitor had departed and the Gulls returned, when 
they went over to the mainland to enjoy their plunder in peace 
and to conceal more effectively the eggs which they could not 
eat at once. 

When foraging on the seashore. Crows sometimes carry small 
fish above high-water mark and conceal them there beyond the 
reach of the tide for future consumption. One species of Crow 
{Corvus splendens) which is found in Ceylon possesses quite an 
unusual amount of ingenuity. Many birds are very curious by 
nature, but these Crows are especially so. They will open 
paper parcels to find out what is inside them, and will even 
untie the knots in a napkin containing sandwiches or other 
food. One bird mentioned by Tennent cleverly pulled out the 
peg which fastened the lid of a basket, in order to plunder the 
provender within. 

There is little doubt that both Crows and Rooks are able to 
distinguish between a gun and a stick. You may approach the 
edge of a ploughed field where the birds are feeding and raise 
a walking-stick to your shoulder, and for some time hardly one 
of them will condescend to notice you, but if you attempt to 
get within range carrying a gun the whole flock will rise in a 
moment and not alight again until they have got away to a 
safe distance. 

The inhabitants of rookeries situated near houses are sometimes 
credited with forming an attachment for the people who live 
there. How far this is true there is no very reliable evidence 
to show, but in one case certainly a few pairs of birds left an 
old rookery in order to found a colony in a clump of elms 
which grew a mile away beside a house to which their former 
human neighbours had removed. On the other hand, some 

358 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

Rooks which had been prevented from building in the trees stand- 
ing in a garden beside a certain house entered into posses- 
sion of the coveted site within a few days of the time when the 
family who objected to their presence left the neighbourhood, 
although a gardener and his family still remained as caretakers 
in charge of the house. 

It is well known that some young birds have plumage of a 
sort quite different from that of their parents, while others are at 
once clothed in the adult plumage, and it is found to be gener- 
ally true that the latter birds have reached a much higher state 
of development than the former. Indeed, the rapidity with which 
a young bird assumes the adult plumage is regarded as a fairly 
safe test of its standing in the bird world. Now young Crows 
do not put on any special kind of baby clothing ; their first 
suit is indistinguishable from that of the old birds, except 
that it is not quite so glossy. Young Rooks, on the other 
hand, are occasionally, though very rarely indeed, more or less 
spotted ; so if the above theory be correct we must consider 
that the Rook is not quite equal in development and intelli- 
gence to the Crow, and experience goes to show that this 
is the case. 

Magpies are as cunning as Ravens and hardly less intelligent. 
Captain Bendire, a noted authority on North American birds, 
after long observing Black-billed Magpies {Pica pica hudsonica) 
very closely, was forced to the conclusion that they are the 
possessors of very considerable reasoning powers, and he gives 
a remarkable instance in support of his opinion, showing how 
several of these birds combined forces in order to carry out an 
elaborate stratagem which one bird could not have worked out 
alone. 

He states that while stationed at the Nez Perce Indian 
Reservation in Idaho, a place where Magpies are exceedingly 
abundant, he possessed a fine setter dog which used to accom- 
pany him on all his excursions and was of great assistance to 
him in finding nests. This dog he himself regularly fed every 

359 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

evening, giving him, towards the end of his meal, a well-boiled 
soup-bone with a certain amount of meat attached, by way of 
dessert. The dog was made to carry his bone on to the lawn, 
while his master sat in the porch watching him. This had 
not been going on very long before it was noticed that on each 
occasion when the dog appeared with his bone, within a minute 
or so about half a dozen Magpies would be close beside 
him, although shortly before not one of those birds had been 
in sight. The Magpies lost no time, but immediately took 
up positions around the setter and were ready for business. 
One of them stood just in front of the animal's nose, about 
two feet away ; a second stationed himself behind, within easy 
reach of the tail ; and the others stood by his side. Wait- 
ing until the dog had begun to gnaw his bone, the bird in the 
rear would make a vicious peck at his tail. The setter, much 
enraged, would wheel round in an attempt to revenge himself 
on the oiFender, who would fly in a leisurely way just out of 
reach, luring the dog after him as far as possible. While this 
little ruse was being enacted the other Magpies used to help 
themselves to pickings from the bone. So frequently was this 
ingenious stratagem carried out that Captain Bendire became 
familiar with the appearance of the different birds, which could 
be distinguished from each other by their variation in size, or 
length of tail, or by some particular defect of plumage. This led 
to a still more remarkable discovery, for he found that when the 
dog had returned to his interrupted meal a different bird would 
undertake the harassing tactics, while the bird which had pre- 
viously been " it," as the children say in their games, occupied the 
place of honour in front of the dog's head, ready to run in and 
obtain its share of the spoil. At last the setter, who was an 
intelligent dog, began to see through the manoeuvre, and no 
little persuasion was required to make him stay on the lawn, 
for he would have preferred to carry his bone into the porch, 
where he was safe from annoyance. Such a striking example 
of strategy as this, supported by most reliable authority, seems 

360 




k.. 



P^ 




vtA^ 




% 



N.VANDERLYN 



Magpie Strategy 

Magpies used to surround a dog every evening as he lay gnawing a bone after his 
supper. One of the birds then pecked viciously at his tail, and while he wheeled round 
and dashed after the offender, the other magpies helped themselves to scraps of meat 
from his bone. 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

unquestionably to indicate both intelligence and reasoning 
power on the part of the birds, which not only formed a plan 
of attack, but discovered the only means by which they could 
accomplish their purpose. 

Birds-of-Prey seldom show any very remarkable signs of 
originality in their methods of hunting, but even amongst them 
examples of clever ruses are not unknown. A pair of Caracaras 
in Texas were once seen endeavouring to secure their prey in a 
manner which was decidedly artful. One of the birds concealed 
itself behind a tussock of grass, while the other began to 
dance (a favourite pastime of these birds) just in front of a 
young lamb, trying to lure or drive it from the place 
where its mother was grazing towards the spot where its own 
companion was in hiding. The plan seemed quite likely to 
succeed, but at the critical moment the sheep became alarmed 
by its offspring wandering so far away and summoned it 
back. 

A few instances of the burial of dead comrades by birds 
are on record, but how far they show the possession of in- 
telligence it is difficult to say. It seems scarcely possible, 
however, that an action so unusual can be due to instinct 
alone. 

For several years in succession a certain pair of Cliff- Swallows, 
members of a small colony, occupied a nest which was built 
against the rafters of a loft. One spring the Swallows returned as 
usual to the old home, and all seemed to be going on well until 
a certain day, when several birds were noticed walling up the 
entrance. As soon as this had been finished the foundations of 
a new nest were laid over the old one. On the closed chamber 
being broken open for the purpose of ascertaining the reason 
for the birds' action, a dead Swallow was found inside, the bird 
having apparently died a natural death. Oven-birds, which 
build remarkable two-chambered nests of clay, of a shape which 
has been compared to that of a baker's oven, and which are 
fairly common in some parts of South America, have been 

361 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

known to convert a nest into a sepulchre by hermetically sealing 
the opening in the same manner. 

We have already referred to the intelligence of Parrots, which 
may be regarded as holding much the same position among birds 
as that occupied by monkeys among animals. Indeed, they 
resemble monkeys in many ways. Both are quick in discern- 
ment, both are active and cautious, both are quick of temper, 
malicious, and thoroughly spiteful. A Parrot delights in 
monkey-tricks, and like the monkey has an excellent memory, 
especially for injuries. Both Parrot and monkey are as cruel as 
they are clever, and as fickle as they are at times affectionate. 
A Parrrot, like a monkey, is an excellent mimic and a born 
actor, and like a monkey, is endow^ed with intelligence in no 
small degree. Many Parrots, as is well known, are capable of . 
acquiring quite an extensive vocabulary and stock of phrases, 
and though we use the term *to learn like a parrot' as an 
expression of contempt, there is little doubt that the Parrot 
does not always utter the sounds which it has learnt to imitate 
without attaching any meaning to them, but that it sometimes 
associates them with definite ideas. We must not understand 
by this, of course, that the bird knows the meanings of all the 
phrases which it learns ; but neither does it use them all in 
what is commonly called parrot fashion. It often attaches 
definite significance to the sounds^ other than words, which it 
repeats, and that I think is what we should expect, since the 
imitation of natural sounds may be regarded as the simplest 
form of speech. Years ago I often noticed a Parrot which 
hung in a window in one of the side streets off* Holborn, near a 
place where omnibuses frequently pull up. This bird had learnt 
to imitate the shrill whistle used by some of the conductors as 
a signal to the driver to move on, and took evident delight 
in the result of its mimicry when, as sometimes happened, 
it succeeded in putting an omnibus in motion. Another amuse- 
ment which is not uncommon among Parrots, and which shows 
undoubted intelligence, is to imitate a house dog's voice and so 

362 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

set the animal barking, afterwards telling it to " Lie down " or 
" Be quiet," just as its master would do. 

It is hardly necessary to repeat the many famous and well- 
known Parrot stories in order to illustrate the memory and wit 
of these sui'prising birds, but it does seem worth while to give a 
quite brief account of one bird as an example of its kind. 
Parrot stories are often looked upon with suspicion, so I will be 
careful to choose one on the perfect accuracy of which I am 
able to rely. 

The Parrot in question lived in the home of a friend of 
mine at the time when she was a schoolgirl. When first Polly 
arrived she was quite young, and her vocabulary was limited to 
such simple remarks as " Hallo ! ", " Good-bye,'' and the inevit- 
able "Pretty Polly." There were, however, five lively chil- 
dren in the house, and the bird very soon began to pick up new 
words and seemed to become more intelligent day by day. At 
the end of two years she knew every member of the household 
by name, she had learnt to whistle very creditably, and was 
fond of singing. Besides all this she could laugh and cry to 
perfection, A favourite game of hers when left alone was to 
cry lustily until one of the children ran upstairs to see what 
was the matter, for it was quite impossible to tell whether it 
was a child or the Parrot who was crying. As soon as any one 
arrived on the scene the bird burst into fits of laughter, in 
evident enjoyment of the success of its practical joking. 
Opposite a window where the Parrot was often placed there 
was a boys' school, and Polly after a while picked up the name 
of one particularly mischievous youngster, and used to greet 
him genially whenever he put in an appearance. Often when 
she was put outside on the balcony she would startle the 
passers-by by suddenly calling out, " Look out ! Look out 1 " 
Like all Parrots, she was very fond of attention ; if she felt 
that she was being neglected she would first rattle the bars of 
her cage to attract notice, and if that did not prove successful 
she would walk to and fro apparently in the greatest dis- 

363 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

tress, whimpering and muttering to herself, "Poor Polly! Poor, 
poor Polly ! " continuing to do so until one of the children 
consented to play with her. Eventually the bird received some 
slight injury to the head, and after bemoaning her illness in a 
very human way for a day or two she died. 

The cleverness of such birds as Parrots and Ravens is not 
more remarkable than the silliness of some other species, such 
as the Tinamous, which allow themselves to be readily taken by 
a horseman riding around them in narrowing circles, or the 
various birds which have earned amongst sailors the im- 
enviable titles of ' Fools ' and ' Boobies.' Even actual in- 
sanity appears to be not altogether unknown, judging from the 
extraordinary behaviour of a Fantail Pigeon mentioned in 
Mental Evolution in Animals by Romanes, who gives the story 
as it was related to him by a lady : — 

" A white fantail pigeon lived with his family in a pigeon- 
house in our stable-yard. He and his wife had been brought 
originally from Sussex, and had lived, respected and admired, 
to see their children of the third generation, when he sud- 
denly became the victim of the infatuation I am about to 
describe. . . . 

No eccentricity whatever was remarked in his conduct until 
one day I chanced to pick up somewhere in the garden a ginger- 
beer bottle of the ordinary brown stone description. I flung it 
into the yard, where it fell immediately below the pigeon-house. 
That instant down flew paterfamilias, and to my no small 
astonishment began a series of genuflections, evidently doing 
homage to the bottle. He strutted round and round it, bowing 
and scraping and cooing and performing the most ludicrous 
antics I ever beheld on the part of an enamoured pigeon. . . . Nor 
did he cease these performances until we removed the bottle ; 
and, which proved that this singular aberration of instinct had 
become a fixed delusion, whenever the bottle was thrown or 
placed in the yard — no matter whether it lay horizontally or 
was placed upright — the same ridiculous scene was enacted ; at 

364 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

that moment the pigeon came flying down with quite as great 
alacrity as when his peas were thrown out for his dinner, to 
continue his antics as long as the bottle remained there. 
Sometimes this would go on for hours, the other members of his 
family treating his movements with the most contemptuous 
indifference, and taking no notice whatever of the bottle. At 
last it became the regular amusement with which we entertained 
our visitors to see this erratic pigeon making love to the 
interesting object of his affections, and it was an entertainment 
which never failed throughout that summer at least. Before 
next summer came round he was no more." 

With the exception of monkeys, about which we cannot speak 
with certainty, the most intelligent species of animals, such as 
the elephant, often reach a great age. In the case of domesti- 
cated and captive animals it is possible to get accurate records, 
and it is known that many dogs and horses have reached quite 
respectable ages ; they are, however, easily beaten by such birds 
as Parrots and Ravens. Levaillant mentions a Grey Parrot 
which had lived in the family of a Dutch gentleman at 
Amsterdam for seventy-three years. When Levaillant saw it, 
it had become very infirm, and was kept alive by frequent 
snacks of biscuit dipped in Madeira wine. It was blind and 
had lost its memory, which began to fail at the advanced 
age of sixty, when it also became confused in its speech. In 
its prime this bird had been a great linguist, and had even 
been trained to make itself useful in the house by calling the 
servants and fetching its master's slippers when requested to do 
so. At sixty-five its moulting became irregular, and like many 
old gentlemen it grew a little eccentric in its dress, the orthodox 
red tail being replaced by a yellow one, which proved to be its 
last change of plumage. A very old Parrot of the Macaw kind, 
mentioned by another writer, became entirely grey late in 
life. 

Crows and Ravens are notoriously long-lived, and tame 
Ravens have been known to outlive several successive owners. 



WISDOM AND FOLLY 

The great age attained by birds of this family is celebrated by 
the author of Festus in one of his songs : — 

The crow ! the crow ! the great black crow ! 

He lives for a hundred years and mo' ; 

He lives till he dies, and he dies as slow 

As the morning mists down the hill that go. 

Go ! go ! you great black crow ! 

But it's fine to live and die hke a great black crow. 




366 



INDEX 



AdamSj Dr., on Crocodile-birds, 
291 

Mpyornis, 348 

Aihircedus, 1S6 

Albatross, 235, 242, 243, 344; 
Black-browed, 223 

Aha impennis, 339 

Alcedo ispida, 318 

Altham, Emanuel, on Dodo, 346 

Altum on Killdee, 113 

Amhlyornis inornata, 140 ; 7nus- 
gravianus, 140 ; suhalaris, 140 

Aphelocoma californica, 231 

Apteryx, 348 

Aquila vindhianaj 226 

Archceoptcryx, 350 

Ardea cinerea, 20, 43, 44, S\^j 
322 

Argus Pheasant {Argusianus 
argus), 126, 128, 129, ISO, 
131, 132 

Asio accipitrinuSj 89 

Atkinson, Canon, on 'death- 
feigning,' 104 

Audubon on young Darters, 78; 
defence of young, 91 ; 'death- 
feigning,' 96 ; Sea-Eagles, 215; 
bird pirates, 225-6 ; Owls 
fishing, 324 ; Pigeon flocks, 
352; Herring-Gull, 356 



Auk, 50, 51, 201 ; Great, 339 
Avoset, 95, 99 

Babbler, 275-6 

Bachmann, Dr., on tame Darter, 

204 
Barnard, Mr., on Brush-Turkey, 

58 
Bartlett, Mr., on Curassows, 115; 

Argus, 129 
Beccari, Dr., on Bower-bird, 

138 
Bendire, Captain, on Ruffed 

Grouse, 87 ; Whip-poor-will, 

1 50 ; Burrowing Owl, 297 ; 

Magpies, 359, 360 
Birds-of-Prey, 76, 77, 88, 149, 

150, 161, 175, 267, 271, 289, 

361 
Bill-scale, 20 

Bittern {Botaurus), 1 96, 328 
Blackbird (Tiirdus mendd), 40, 

87, 184, 274 
Boatswain-bird, 92 
Booby, 224 

Bolles, Mr., on Owls, 184, 276-7 
Bogoolof, birds on Island of, 

Bonxie {Stercorarius catarrkacies), 
91 



367 



INDEX 



Bos, Prof. Ritzema, on Rooks 
and Crows, 231 

Bower-birds, 132-42; Gardener, 
137-40; Golden, 141; Re- 
gent, 136-7; Satin, 133; 
Spotted, 135 

Brambling, 251 

Brant, Black, see under Goose 

Brehm on Auks, 50 ; Bateleur 
Eagle, 1 49 ; Crocodile-bird, 
293 ; Eider-Ducks, 91 ; Ibis, 
123; Sheld-duck, 298-300 

Brush-Turkey, 58, 59, 60, 6l, 63 

Biyant, Dr., on Gannets of Great 
Bird Rock, 336 

Buhuhus ibis, 288 

Buceros violaceus, 176 

Bucerotidce, 39 

Bulbul, 166 

Builer, Sir Walter, on Wekas, ] 72 

Bullfinch, 68, 113 

Buntings, Q5 ; Snow-, 117, 251 

Bitjjkaga africana, 287 ; erythro- 
rhyncha, 286 

' Burong angi,' 197 

Burroughs, Mr., on Ravens, 309 

Bustard, Florikin, 155; Great, 
153-5 

Bustard-Quail, 166-7 

Butcher-bird, 76 

Buzzard, 149, 241, 258 ; Honey-, 
240 

Campephilus principalis, 227 
Campylopterus hirundinaceiis, 189 
Canary-bird (Serinus canarius), 
113 



Caracara, 226, 36 1 

Cassique (Cassicus persicus), 301 

Cassowary, 52, ]6l, l68 

Catharistes, 307 

Ceyx dilhvynni, I96 

Chaffinch {Fringilla coelebs), 68, 
258 

' Chajd,' 1 70 

'Chaka; 171 

Charadriiis spinosus, 291 

Chauna, 170 

Chionis, 231, 344 

' Chippy,' see under Sparrow 

Chlamydodera maculata, 135 

Choetura pelagica, 84 

Coccyzus americanus y 235 

Cockatoo, ^^, 121-2 

^Cock-nests,' 114 

Colaptes auraius, 159 

Condor {Sarcorhamphus gryphus), 
2,^, 149, 240 

Cook, Mr. J. M., on Crocodile- 
birds, 29 1-3 

Coot {Fulica atra), 201, 212, 213 

Cormorant (Phalacrocorax), 77, 
78, 194, 195, 201, 207, 320, 
328-31, 332; Green, or Shag, 
203, 237 ; Cape Green, 332 

Corncrake {Crex pratensis), 104 

Cornish, Mr., on Carrion-Crows, 
82; on Wild Duck, 100-2; 
on Gulls, 121 ; on Kingfishers, 
321 ; on Penguins, 202 ; on 
Ravens, 120-1 

Corvus americamis, 322 ; corax, 
1 22 ; ossi/ragus, 218; splendens, 
358 



368 



INDEX 



Cones J Dr._, on Burrowing Owls^ 

294. 
Courser,, Black-backed^ 54 
Cow-bird {Molohrus), 146-7 
Cowley on Doves in Galapagos 

Islands, 344 
Crane, 20, 121, 154, 236, 258, 

279 
Crateropiis canorus, 275-6 
Crex pratensis, 104 
Crocodile-bird, 289-93 
Crotophaga ani, 283 
Crows, 20, 119, 122, 173, 196, 

229, 252, 258, 264, 355, 356, 

358, 359, S65 ; American, 322 ; 

Carrion-, 82, 176, 218, 271, 

310, 321 ; Fish-, 218; Hooded, 

231, 259 
Cuckoo, 33, 34, 51, 74, 87, 117, 

144, 156, 246, 257, 26l, 274; 

Yellow-billed, 87, 235 
Curassow, 115 
Curlew {Numenius arquafa), 259, 

356; Stone-, 41-2 
Cursorius cegyptius, 54 
Cyanocitta cristata, 123 
Cygnus nigricollis, IO6 

Dabchick {Podicipes Jluviatilis), 
31, 77, 114, 174, 201, 213, 
313 

d'Albertis, Signor, on Paradise- 
bird, 186 

Darwin on bird-song, 145 ; on 
tameness of island-birds, 344 

Darter, 78, 203, 204, 205, 206, 
328 

2 A 369 



Davison, Mr., on Argus Pheas- t\ 

ant, 127, 128, ISO \ 

de Bry, Brothers, on birds of | 

Mauritius, 345, 346 \ 

Dickens on Raven, 122 '\ 

Diduncuhis strigirostris, 351 \ 

Dmnedea melanophrys, 223 

Dipper {Cinclus aquaticus), 213 j 

Diver, Great Northern {Colym- \ 

bus glacialis), 207, 210 j 

Dixon, Mr., on Pigeons, 50 ; on 

Daws, 230 ^ 

Dodo, 342-8 \ 

Dotterel {Eudrojnias morinellus), I 
37 

Drongo, 188 i 

Dove, 20, 344; Ground-, 99; 1 

Ring-, see Wood - Pigeon ; ; 
Turtle-, 300, 312 

Duck, 20, 22, 25, 28, 79, 91, ^ 

95, 100, 157, 173, 189, 191, \ 

192-3, 195, 198, 201, 231, j 

267, 313-14; Blue-billed, ] 

206; Eider- (Somateria), 31, i 

77, 91 ; Muscovy (Cairind), i 
195;Sheld-, 100, 298-300; 
Steamer- {TacJiyeres), 244 ; 

Wild, 23, 81, 100-2, I9I, 1 

236, 300, 313 i 

Eagle, 30, 149, 175, 214, 215; 

Bald, 215-18, 222; Bateleur, ] 

149; Golden, 76, 88; Fish- ■ 

ing, 327 ; Harpy, I6I ; Indian ! 
Tawny, 226-7; Sea-, 77, 

300 ] 

Ectopistes migratoj'ius, '352-3 I 



INDEX 



Edward^ Thomas, on Wild Duck^ Gardener-bird^ see Bower-bird 



81 ; on Terns, 275 
f Egg-tooth/ 20 
Egret, 338-9 
Elanoides furcatuSj 40 
Elanus leucurus, 119 
Emu {T>romceus), 52 
Erismatura ferruginea^ 206 

Fako rusticolus obsoletus, 46 

Falcons, 30, 183, 239 

Farren, Mr., on Reed- Warblers, 

72-3 
Fieldfare (Turdus pilaris), 259 
Finches, 49, 113, 119, 174, 184, 

344 
Flicker, 159 
Flamingo {Phcenicopterus), 100, 

123, 237, 279 
Florikin, 155 
Flycatchers, 77, 301 
Forbes, Mr. H. O., on Gannets, 

225 
Fowls and Chickens, Domestic, 

18-27, 30, 35, 36, 50, 52, 60, 

61, 80, 81, 91, 151, 179, 181, 

247, 267 
Frigate-bird (Fregeta aquila), 

224, 225, 243, 326-7 

Galloperdix, l62 

Game-birds, 25, 87, 94, 151, l62, 

181 
Game-cocks, l62, l66, l67 
Gannet {Sula), 20, 77, 78, 201, 

211, 224, 225, 230, 267, 328, 

SS5, 336 



Gare-fowl, 339-41 

Gatke, Herr, on submersion of 
diving birds, 207, 213 ; on 
soaring, 240, 241 ; on migrat- 
ing flocks, 249-51, on speed 
of migrants, 259 

Geococcyx calif ornianus^ 209 

Godwit {Limosa), 37, 259 

Gold-crest, see Wren, Golden- 
crested 

Goodwin, Mr., on Bower-birds, 
140-1 

Goose, 88, 157, l6l, 279; Ber- 
nicle {Branta leucopsis), 26 1 ; 
Black Brant (J5. nigricans), 
237; Canada (j5. canadensis), 
88 ; Grey Lag or Wild {Anser 
ferus), 88, 236 ; Spur-winged 
{Plectropterus), 170 

Goshawk (Astur), 88 

Gosse, Mr., on Didunculus, 351 

Gould, Mr., on Brush-Turkeys, 
59 

Grackle, 146, 230 ; Purple {Quis- 
calus purpureus), 300 

Grass-Quit, 301 

Grebe {Podicipes), 201, 211, 212; 
Little, see Dabchick 

Groos, Dr., on birds' courtship, 
156 

Grosbeak, Sociable, 280-3 

Grouse, l62, 279 ; Black {Lyru- 
rus tetrix), 164-5 ; Red {Lago- 
pus scoticus), 181 ; Ruffed 
{Bonasa nmbellus), 87; Willow 
{Lagopus lagopus), 155, 159 



370 



INDEX 



Guan, 148-9 

Guillemots, 202 

Guinea-fowls, l62 

GuUs, 20, 48, 91, 121, 192, 209, 
219, 220, 225, 236, 242, 333, 
356j 357-8; Black - headed 
{Larus ridibundus), 225-6, 308, 
317 ; Great Black-backed, 
147 ; Herring (L. argentatus), 
S5Q 

Giinzel on Magpie, 120 

Gyrfalcon, Black, 46 

Haliaehts leucocephalus, 215-18, 
222 

Haliastur Indus, 327 

Hardy, Mr. Manly, on Jays' 
thieving, 230 

Harrier (Circus), 150 

Hawks, 20, 29, 90, 91, 123, 182, 
196, 276, 315, 344; Sharp- 
shinned, 88 ; Sparrow-, 258 

Hawk-Owl, 36 

Hedge-Sparrow (Accentor modu- 
laris), 33, 75, 77 

Hemipodes, l66 

Herodotus on Crocodile-birds, 
289 

Herons, 20, 43-5, 77, 195, 196, 
288,315,319, 322, 327, 338-9; 
Cattle-, 288 ; Snowy, 339 

Himantopus candidus, 99 

Holub on birds and snakes, 283 

Homer on flight of Cranes, 
245 

Honey-Buzzard, 240 

Honey-guide (^Indicator), 301-3 



Hornbills, 39, 40, 195, 283; 
Violaceous, 176 

Hudson, Mr., on Dabchicks, 1 74 ; 
young Jacana, 30 ; Kites, 119; 
Swan, 106; Swifts, 39; Tina- 
mou, 107 

Hume, Mr. A. O., on Bustard- 
Quails, 166 

Humming-birds, 20, 91, 176, 
188, 234, 235, 242; Broad- 
tailed, 188 

Hutton, Captain, on Albatross, 
223 

Hydralector gallinaceus, 205 

Hydrojyhasianus chirurgus, 172 

Ibis, 123 ; American Wood-, 323 
Indicator sparrmani, 301 

Jacana, 30; Indian, 172 
Jackdaw, 119, 120, 230, 270, 311 
Jaeger, 219 
Jay, Blue, 123, 230, 273; Cali- 

fornian, 231 
Jenner on Cuckoos, 33 
Jerdon on Pelicans, 332 
Jesse on birds fighting, 1 76 
Jungle-fowl, l6l 

Kearton, Mr., on Gulls, 192 

Kestrel, 149, 241, 242, 258 

Ketupa, 324 

Killdee, 113 

King-bird, 89-91 

Kingfishers, 156, 264, 318, 319- 

21 ; Long-tailed, 301 
Kite, 175, 305, 308; Brahminy, 

327 ; Everglade, 242 ; Pariah, 



371 



INDEX 



305-6 ; Swallow-tailed, 40-1 ; 

White-tailed, 119 
Kiwi, 52, 348 
Knot {Tringa camdiis), 253 

Lagopus mutus, l63 ; rupestris, 

152, 162-3 
Land-Rail, 103-4 
Lanius collurio, 76 
Lapwing, 95, 96-9 
Larks, 252, 258, 264 ; see also 

Skylark 
Lams marinus, 147 
Layard on Honey-guides, 303 
Leguat on Tropic-birds, 92 ; on 

bird pirates, 224 
Leo Africanus (Giovanni Leone) 

on Crocodile-birds, 290 
Lesson on Skimmers, 335 
Lestris, 219 
Levaillant on Parrots, 70, 190^ 

365; on Hornbill, 177 
Lichenops, 107 
Lilford, Lord, on migrating 

flocks, 252 
Linnet, 32 
Lipoa ocellata, Q3 
Littlejohn, Mr., on Ravens and 

GuUs, 357 
Logcock, 106 
Longshanks, 100 
Lophura rufa, 130-1 
Lotus-bird, 205 
Lumholtz, Mr., on Bower-birds, 

135-6 ; Jacana chicks, 205 
Lyre-bird, 125, 132 
Lyriirus tetrix, l64 



Macaw, 69 

Macgillivray, Mr., on Megapode 

mounds, 6l 
Magpie, 120, 176, 230, 310-11 ; 

American, 122; Black-billed, 

359-60 
Maleo, 55-8, 60-l 
Manu-mea, 351 
Manacus candceif 148 
Manakin, 148 
Martin, 258 ; House-, 30, 71, 74, 

83, 119, 188; Purple, 90; 

Sand-, 188 
Megacephalon maleo, 55-8, 60-l 
Megapode, Australian, 6 1-3 ; 

Brenchley's, 62 ; Ocellated, 

63-4 
Megalestris maccormicki, 222 
Memira, 125 

Merriam, Dr., on Humming- 
birds, 189; Murres, 65-6 
Millais, Mr., on Cormorants, 

331-2 
Milvus govinda, 305 
Moa, 342, 349 
Molly-mawk, 223 
Montagu on Cormorant, 331 ; 

Curlew, 356-7; Ruffs, 170 
Moorhen, 23, 25, 26, 30, 32, 

114, 174, 195, 201, 205, 213, 

313 
Morgan, Prof. Lloyd, on Chicks, 

23-4 
Motmot {Momotus), 187 
Mound-Builders, 54 et seq., 132 
Muir, Mr. Pattison, on Rooks, 

271-3 



372 



INDEX 



Murre, 65, 235, 236 

Naumann on Storks, 120 . 

' Nelly/ 92 

Nelson, Mr. E. W., on Phalaro- 

pes, 157-9 
Nightjar, 76,150-1,181,195, 257 
Nightingale (JDaulias luscinia), 

85, 145, 257 
Nordmann on Skua, 221 
North, Mr., on Bower-birds, 

134-5 
Nothocrax, 115 
Nuthatch {Sitta caesici), ^5, 147, 

228 
Nydea nivea, 324 

Ocijdroiims earli, 172 
(Edicnemus scolopaXf 41-2 
Orioles, 300-1 
Osprey, 88, 216-18, 300, 325-6, 

327, 328 
Ossifraga gig ante a, 92 
Ostrich, 20, 25, 52-3, 79, 95, 

102, 168, 177, 283, 286 
Otis tarda, 153-5 
Oven-bird {Furnarius), SQ\ 
Owl, 37, 89, 123 ; Barred-, 184, 

276-7 ; Burrowing, 293-8 ; 

Fish-, 324 ; Great Horned, 46 ; 

Hawk-, 36; Screech-, 86, 103, 

184; Short-eared, 89; Snowy, 

324 
Ox-pecker, 287 

Palamedea, 170 

Palmer, Mr., on Frigate-birds, 
225 



Paradise-birds, 185; Great, 125; 
Prince Albert, 126 ; Six- 
plumed, 186 

Parr a jacana, SO 

Parrakeet, Blue-bellied, 69 

Parrots, 20, 21, 49, 68, 69, 70, 
122, l6l, 174, 189-91, 196, 
279,283, 301, 345, 346, 355, 
362-4, 365; Carolina, 121; 
Damask, 190; Kea, 289 

Parson-bird {Prosthematodera), 
117 

Partridge, 21, 24, 67, 87, 95, 
113, 162, 181 

Passerines, l60 

Paterson, Lieutenant, on Soci- 
able Grosbeaks, 280 

Peacock, 131, 151-2; Double- 
spurred, 162 

Pelargopsis leucocephala, 321 

Pelecanus americanus,33S ; fuscus, 
45-6, 225-6, 333 ; philippensis, 
332 

Pelicans, 77, 211, 240, 328, 334 ; 
Brown, 45, 46, 78, 225-6; 
333 ; Grey, 332 ; White, 333 

Pelican Island, 45 

Penguins, 31, 51, I6I, 192, 200, 
201, 202-3, 271; Adelie, 93, 
117, 118, 223; Emperor, 47, 
78, 263-4 ; Gentoo, 263 

Penelope, 148 

Peregrine Falcon, 149 

Petrel, 77, 78, 223-4, 243, 267 ; 
Capped, 208-9, 211; Giant, 
92 

Pewit, 96-9 



373 



INDEX 



Phaethon, 92 

Phalacrocorax capensis, 332 

Phalarope, Northern {Phalaro- 
pus hyperhoreus), SI, 157-9 

Pheasant, 24, 25, 36, 38, l6l, 
162, 315; Argus, 126, 128- 
31 ; Fire-back, 130-1 

Philetcerus socius, 280-3 

Pica pica hudsonica, 230, 359 

Piciis j^il^dtus, 86, 106 

Pigeons, 50, 68, ^9, 76, 95, 99, 
153, 173, 239, 241, 342, 364; 
Homing, 237-8, 262-3 ; Pas- 
senger-, 260, 352-3; Tooth- 

. billed, 351-2; Tumbler, 116; 
Wood-, 312-13 

"Pin-wings," 340 

Pipits, 95 ; Richard's, 260 

Pirie, Dr. Harvey, on Sheath- 
bills, 231 ; Gentoo Penguins, 
263 

Plectropterm, 170 

Ploceus, 114 

Plotus, 191, 203, 328 

Plovers, 20, 24, 27, 30, 37, 38, 
63, 95, 98 ; Black-headed, 291, 
293; Spur-winged, 170, 29I 

Pluvianm- OBQyptius, 291, 293 

Polioaetus icthy actus, 327 

Polyhorus, 226 

Polyplectron, 131-2 

Prionodura nemtoniana, 141 

Progne, 90 

Psittacus cyanogaster, 69 ; infiLs- 
catus, 190 

Ptarmigan, l63 ; Reinhardt's, 
152, 162 



Ptilonorhynchus, 132; P. viola- 

ceus, 133 
Puffin, 201, 202 

Rail, 95 ; Land-, 103-4 ; Water-, 

104; Weka-, 172 | 

Rallus aquaticus, 104 
Ralph, Dr., on Woodchuck, 86 ; 

Ground-Dove, 99 
Raven, 46, 82-3, 120, 12], 122, 

161, 173, 174, 308-9, 357-8, 

SQ5 
Razor-bill {Alca torda), 202 
Recurvirostra avocefta, 99 
Redbreast {Erithacus rubeciila), 

145,146,173,174,183,258,264 
Redstart {Ruticilla phcenicurus), 

278 
Reed- Warbler (^Acrocephalus stre- 

perus), 72, 73 
Rey on Carolina Parrots, 121 
Rhea, 52 

Rhinoceros-bird, 286-7 
Rhynchops, 334 
Road-runner, 209 
Robin, see Redbreast 
Rook, 82, 119, 173, 229, 230, 

231, 258, 268-71, 272, 289, 

311-2, 358-9 
Roosevelt, President, on destruc- 
tion of birds, 338 
Rudolph, Prince, on Sea-Eagles, 

77 
Ruff, 168-70 

Salvin, Mr., on Cormorants, 194, 
330, 331 



374 



INDEX 



Sanderling^ 253 

Sand-Grouse {Pterocles), 48^ 53 

Sandpiper^ 21 ; Curlew-, 253 

Savana Blackbird, 283 

Scenopoeus, 136 

Schillings, Mr., on animal 

friendships, 285-6 ; sense of 

direction, 262 
Sclater, Dr., on Kites, 119 
Scolopax majors 148 ; minor, 

96 
Scops asio, 86, 103, 184 
Scott, Captain, on Penguins, 79 ; 

Skuas, 92 
Screamers, 170-1 
Seebohm, Mr., on Hawk-Owls, 

36 ; tundra, 253-6 
Selasphorus platycerus, 188 
Sericuliis melinuSf 136 
Shag {JPhalacrocorax graculus), 

203, 237 
Sharpe, Dr., on Kingfisher, 

196-7 
Sheath-bill, 231, 344 
Shikra, 276 

Shrike, Red-backed, 76 
Silver-bill, 107 
Skimmer, 334-5 
Skua, 91-2, 219-22; BufFon's, 

222 ; McCormick's, 222-3 
Skylark (Alauda arvensis), 32, 

41, 75, 146, 180-1 
Snake-bird, see Darter and Wry- 
neck 
Snipe, 147-8 
Solan Goose, see Gannet 
Solitaire, 1 73, 342 



Sparrow {Passer domesticus), 27, 
29. 49, 67-8, 105-6, 112-3, 
179-80, 182, 183, 228, 258, 
274 ; Chipping {Spizella domes- 
tica), 72 ; Tree-, 300 

Sparrman, Dr., on Honey-guide, 
301-2 

Spermopkila olivacea, 301 

Spkeniscus magellanicus, 208 

Spur-fowl, 162 

Stanley, Bishop, on Moorhens, 
174 

Starling, 113, 176, 237, 258, 288 

Staunton, Sir George, on Cor- 
morants, 328-9 

Stilt, 99 

^Stinker,' 93 

Stint, Little {Tringa minutd), 253 

St. John, Mr., on plumage of 
water-birds, 193-4 

Stork, White (Ciconia alba), 29, 
84, 120, 147, 258, 308 

Straw-Tail, 92 

Sula piscator, 224 

Sumia ulida, 36 

Swallow, 29, 70, 71, 73-4, 113, 
150, 188, 228, 246, 248, 257, 
258, 261 ; Cliff-, 361 

Swan, S6, 147, 154, 16I, 174, 
175, 215-16, 236, 279; Bew- 
ick's, 253 ; Black, 341 ; Black- 
necked, 106 

Swift (Cypselus apus), 38-9, 
70-1, 244, 257; Chimney-, 
84-5 

Sypheotis bengalensis, 155 

Symiu?n nehulosum, 1 84 



375 



INDEX 



Tadoma comuta, 100, 298-300 

Talegallus lathami, 58-60 

Tantalus loculator, 323 

Tanysiptera sylvia, 301 

Tern {Sterna), 48, 219, 275, 
333 

Thrasaetus harpyia, l6l 

Thrush {Turdus musimis), 75, 184, 
251, 258, 264 

Tinamou, 107, 196, 364 

Titmouse, 119, 279; Blue, 77, 
155 

Titlark (Antkus pratensis), 3S 

Todus dominicensis , 176 

Trevor-Battye, Mr., on Stone- 
Curlews, 42 

Tropic-bird, 92 

Troupials, 146 

Turkey, 57, 151, 152 

Turkey-Buzzard, 307 

Turner, Dr., on Kites in Old 
London, 305 

Tumix taigoor, l66 

Tyr annus, 89-91 

Una lomvia arra, 235-6 

Verner, Captain, on Black- 
backed Courser, 54 

Vulture, 113, 121, 240; King, 
103 ; Turkey-, 307 

Wagtail, Pied {Motacilla lugu- 
hris), 33, 113, 246, 274 



Wallace, Dr., on Gulls and 
Terns, 48 ; on Humming- 
birds, 189; on Maleos, 55 

Warbler, Chestnut-sided, 278 

Water-Ousel, 213 

Water-Rail, 104 

Weaver-birds, 114, 280-3 

Weka, 172 

Whip-poor-will {Antrostomus voci- 
ferus), 150-1, 181 

White, Gilbert, on Goose, 88 ; 
Raven, 82-3 ; Swallow, 73-4 ; 
Swift, 38 

Wilson, Alexander, on Crow, 
355 ; King-bird, 90 ; Passen- 
ger-Pigeons, 352 ; Stilt, 100 ; 
Ivory - billed Woodpecker, 
227-8 

Wilson, Dr., on Penguins, 93, 
117, 263^ Skuas, 222 

Wind-hover, 242 

Woodchuck, 86-7 

Woodcock {Scolopax rusticola), 
257 ; American, 96 

Woodpecker, 85, 118, 147, 
315-16 ; Golden-winged, 159 ; 
Ivory-billed, 227-8 ; Pileated, 
86, 106; Red-bellied, 86; 
Red-headed, 91 

Wren, 114, 145 ; Golden-crested, 
252, 258 

Wryneck (J^;i,r torquilla),'74!-5, 85 

Zic-zac, 291-2 



WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. 
PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH 



DEC 12 190?! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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